We Are Such Stuff
by Mai1
Summary: A Jack Romance: What happens when someone gets under Jack's skin?
1. Default Chapter

Title: We Are Such Stuff...  
  
Author: Mai  
  
Email: Maisfeeka@AOL.com  
  
Feedback: Always nice  
  
Distribution: CD certainly. Others, just let me know, please.  
  
Disclaimer: Alias and its characters do not belong to me. No  
  
copyright infringement is intended here. Ree is mine.  
  
Summary: A Jack Romance: What happens when someone  
  
gets under Jack's skin?  
  
Rating: R to NC-17.  
  
Classification: AU, Romance, Angst, Drama, OC  
  
A/N: Overwhelming thanks to Karen T. for being a fabulous  
  
beta and friend. Also, thanks to the Tuesday night Irish musicians  
  
at The Barley House in Concord, NH where I wrote most of this.  
  
Special thanks to Sue who oohed and aahed and cried over the  
  
work as I wrote it and to Alys who made me hurry up and finish it.  
  
I intended to write this as a blatant romance at a time when I  
  
was feeling very down. Being me, I ended up with lots of angst  
  
and drama. :) Hope you all enjoy.  
  
Karen T. says this is really best read at all one sitting (and I  
  
agree), but I don't want to flood anyone's inboxes. However,  
  
if you want the whole thing and can read word documents  
  
drop me an email and I'd be glad to send it all off to you! :)  
  
********************  
  
  
  
We Are Such Stuff.  
  
It wasn't usual for them to come to her house. Most of the time she went to them - meeting at their headquarters or going to a victim's home. But for some reason - national security or some such, she supposed - they'd asked if they could meet here.  
  
And of course she was running behind. The place was clean enough, but she'd had another of those comforting/disturbing dreams, which had left her with a need to sketch him yet again. She didn't know why she'd dreamed of her imaginary man last night, but she guessed that after 12 years and hundreds of sketches she should be used to his recurring presence in her dream life.  
  
But the sketching had left her late and scrambling to collect all the things she'd need. She poured herself a cup of tea and then made herself pause, take a deep breath, center herself. She'd found a soothing presence helped people relax and made them better able to remember those little details about a face that could make her drawings really useful.  
  
There was a knock on the door and she moved smoothly to answer it. The two agents there were ones she'd worked with before, but they were alone. She quirked one brow inquiringly as they entered.  
  
"Jack will be joining us soon," Agent Hanlon said in response to her silent query. "We thought it prudent for him to arrive separately and after us for security reasons."  
  
She knew better than to ask many questions. When you were on retainer with the CIA the less said the better.  
  
Agent Thompson smiled at her acknowledging nod. "As always we appreciate your flexibility - and your discretion, Ma'am."  
  
And my ridiculously high security clearance, she thought with quiet amusement, but merely smiled in response.  
  
Agent Hanlon had wandered over to her table where the results of her last mad sketch fest still resided. "Shit," he said in amazement, staring at a picture of the man, "I didn't realize you knew -"  
  
She saw what he was looking at and moved quickly to the table, aware of the hot blush flooding her cheeks, "I'm sorry," she interrupted him, beginning to gather up the loose papers. "I was sketching before you arrived and."  
  
He picked up the sketch she'd been reaching for and offered it to Agent Thompson, who glanced at it without much interest, but then did a double take. "What the hell?"  
  
"Look," she said, embarrassed beyond belief, "I didn't mean to leave these out. It's just, well, I've been having these odd dreams for years and this guy's always in them." She stretched out her hand for the drawing, fighting the urge to rip it away from them and hide it. "And I've found," she said, still waiting for it to be returned to her," I've found that if I draw him, kind of get him out of my mind." She stopped babbling, realizing that neither of them were listening to her.  
  
They were both just staring at the picture. Staring and grinning like a couple of fools, she thought a bit angrily. "If you're quite finished," she said sharply and snatched the picture back. "I'm glad you find the idea of me drawing pictures of an imaginary man quite amusing, but if we could move on?"  
  
She'd started back toward the table, rescued picture in hand, when there was a knock on the door. "Would one of you please?" she threw over her shoulder and proceeded to collect up the rest of her stray pictures to stow them safely away. She heard another person enter the room and the murmur of low voices, but took an extra moment to settle herself anyway.  
  
With one last deep breath, she turned to greet the newcomer - and froze. The carefully collected drawings in their folder slipped out of her hands, spilling across the floor, but all she could do was stare.  
  
Into the cold eyes of the man who had haunted her dreams for so many years.  
  
He met her gaze emotionlessly. "Is there a problem, Ms.?"  
  
"Uh, no!" she said, coming back to herself with a start. "I'm sorry. I just, uh. I should just pick these up."  
  
She dropped down to her knees, trying desperately to collect all the wayward papers. He bent down to help her and stopped short at the sight of his own face, finely detailed, on the paper he held. He glanced at her sharply, "Do I know you from somewhere?"  
  
She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak under his piercing gaze.  
  
"Then what the hell is this?" he demanded.  
  
"It's. well. It's a long story," she began, feeling herself start to shake.  
  
"I'll make the time," he said icily.  
  
"Whoa, let's back up a little here," Agent Hanlon interrupted. "Before we start with the interrogations, maybe we could do some introductions?"  
  
"Jack Bristow," the man said curtly, not letting his stare waver in the slightest.  
  
"Rhiannon," she managed, "Rhiannon Ash."  
  
"Well, Ms. Ash, perhaps you'd be kind enough to tell me what you're doing with multiple sketches of me in your possession?"  
  
"It's not. He's not. They're pictures of someone I dream about. You're not, I mean he's not real!" She knew she sounded like a fool, but how the hell was she supposed to explain this? She was still in shock herself at seeing this man come walking in through her front door.  
  
"I assure you, I am quite real, Ms. Ash," Jack said without easing up on his intense glare, "Quite real, and not inclined to accept fairy tales in lieu of explanations."  
  
"Look," Agent Hanlon interrupted again, "as fascinating as this conversation is, maybe we could come back to it at a later time? We've got work to do here and the sooner we get started the better. Jack, if it relieves your concerns any, I can assure you that Ms. Ash has been thoroughly vetted. Her security clearance is even higher than mine."  
  
Jack continued to stare for another moment, then abruptly nodded. "All right. But we'll return to this conversation later, Ms. Ash."  
  
"Ree," she managed with a throat that felt as dry as dust, not sure why she even cared at this point. "Please, call me Ree."  
  
He raised one eyebrow at her and gave another abrupt nod. "As you wish. Ree." He rose, extending a hand to assist her to her feet.  
  
She pulled away as quickly as she could politely manage and, with shaking hands, slipped the folder full of damning pictures in with the other folders on the desk. She turned back to the three of them with the best professional smile she could muster. "So, Mr. Bristow, I assume you are the person the CIA wants me to work with?"  
  
Agent Thompson stepped in. "Yes," he said quickly, hoping to reduce some of the tension by getting down to business, "Jack has recently had the opportunity to meet a man that the CIA would very much like to get their hands on. Unfortunately, he guards against being photographed very carefully, through a combination of an EM burst which disables most electronics and by staying in an unusually prismed room. Jack is the first of our people to get access to him and since he was unable to get a clear photograph, we're hoping that, with your help, we'll at least be able to get a clear high-quality sketch of the man."  
  
Ree nodded, trying to look as competent as possible. She glanced over at Jack who was still watching her quite intently. "Shouldn't be a problem," she said with a pretense of calm. "Mr. Bristow, if you please?" She gestured toward the comfortable chair by her drawing desk.  
  
"I'd rather stand," he said bluntly.  
  
Now he was starting to annoy her. "Fine," she said shortly, "I will sit, if you don't mind. It would be a little difficult for me to draw effectively while standing."  
  
An hour later everyone was thoroughly frustrated. Ree put her pencil down with exaggerated calm. "This is not going to work."  
  
Agent Hanlon was on his feet immediately. "Ree, Ms. Ash. I don't think you understand how vital this could be to national security!"  
  
Ree shot him a look. "At this rate you'd have as much luck just passing around a picture of Big Bird as you would from this disaster. Mr. Bristow clearly has issues with me, which are making it impossible for us to make any progress." Her glare in Jack's direction was met with equal intensity.  
  
"You two can leave." Jack didn't take his eyes off Ree. "Ms. Ash and I will work this out on our own."  
  
"But Jack, that is completely against protocol -"  
  
"I don't give a damn about protocol. I want the two of you out of here. Now." The sharpness of his tone left no room for debate - not for anyone who valued their life.  
  
"Uh. all right then. Jack, I assume you weren't followed?"  
  
Jack shot a glare at Agent Thompson who visibly quailed.  
  
"Right," the agent said a bit shakily, "Well, then. when you've, uh. gotten this all worked out, you'll contact us?"  
  
"Are you still here?"  
  
The two agents looked nervously at each other and then headed toward the door, glancing surreptitiously back at the two adversaries.  
  
"Do you think.?" Agent Hanlon spoke quietly.  
  
"Nah," Agent Thompson said. "They're both too controlled."  
  
"But if they did? Who do you think.?"  
  
"I wouldn't even know how to go about laying odds."  
  
The agents left the house hurriedly, relieved to be out of the firing zone.  
  
"Well?" Ree challenged once the agents had left. "Nothing's stopping you now. Go ahead." 


	2. Chapter 2

"Well?" Ree challenged once the agents had left. "Nothing's stopping you now. Go ahead."  
  
"Fine. All cards on the table then," Jack responded, planting his hands on the desk and leaning in towards her. "What the hell are you doing with all of these . pictures . of me? And I don't want any damn stories about dreams you've had!"  
  
"Oh really?" she said, slamming up out of her chair. "Well, I'm afraid you're just going to have to deal with it." She stalked across the room to a bookcase with rows of sketchpads and journals and started pulling them out by the handful. Returning to the table she began opening them at random and slapping them down one by one. "There. There. There. You want to read the journals, too?" Any embarrassment she might have felt over sharing such personal things with a stranger was overpowered by her frustration and anger. "Anything else you want to see? Don't be shy. Here, read this one!" She opened a journal and thrust it at him, only to pull it back as she remembered just what had happened in that particular dream. Turned out she could still feel embarrassment after all. "Okay, maybe not that one, but here, here's another!"  
  
Jack stared in shock at the pictures of himself spilled out across the table. He looked down at the journal in his hand, not sure if he really wanted to read whatever was written on the pages.  
  
Ree banged the last of the sketchbooks down, knocking some of the loose pictures onto the floor. The flutter of paper seemed to bring her back to herself. She stood there, red-faced and slightly out of breath, noticing a stray curl that had escaped from her braid trailing across her cheek and feeling as if all the air had suddenly been let out of her.  
  
She looked at the papers and books covering the desk and spilling onto the chairs and floor. "Oh God," she said quietly, "what have I just done?"  
  
"Convinced me, for one," Jack said, still staring at himself in various poses and moods. He seemed particularly struck by one which caught his face in mid-laugh, eyes crinkled with joy. "This one. I can't remember when I last laughed like that," he said musingly, "A long, long time ago."  
  
The poignancy of his expression tore at her heart and without thinking she reached out to touch his cheek. He jerked away from her hand, giving her a look that bordered on disgust.  
  
"Oh God!" she said in horror, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I should never have. It's just you look so much like him."  
  
He just stood there watching her silently.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said again. "You must think I'm absolutely crazy." She moved to the side of the desk farthest from him and began gathering up some of the wreckage from her tantrum.  
  
"I don't know what I think," Jack said quietly, looking a bit unnerved by the events. "All of this." He shook his head and started putting some of the chaos back into order with her.  
  
After a moment he stopped and looked over at her. "Dreams?" he said curiously. "How long have you been having these dreams about. me?"  
  
"About twelve years," she said in a subdued tone. "And I don't know that they are about you, but whoever it is -"  
  
"Looks a hell of a lot like me," Jack finished.  
  
She nodded, glancing up at him to try to read his expression without much success.  
  
"Perhaps I could. look at some of this again at another time?" he asked cautiously.  
  
She flushed, then nodded - if a bit reluctantly. "I suppose it's only fair. But."  
  
"Only what you're comfortable showing me."  
  
She nodded again, then looked up at him resignedly, "We're not going to get a workable sketch, are we?"  
  
His mouth twisted slightly, "My description doesn't seem to be translating into something you can use." He paused as if considering an idea. "How do you feel about a trip to France?"  
  
Her eyebrows rose up almost into her hairline. "Excuse me?"  
  
"I think I can arrange for you to see him at the next meet, but it would involve you coming to France. I assume you'd be able to draw an accurate sketch if you got a good look at him?"  
  
"Ye-es," she said hesitantly.  
  
"Good. Then I'll make the arrangements and get back to you." He replaced the sketchbooks and journals on the table and started for the door. He turned back as he reached it. "Thank you. It was. interesting. meeting you."  
  
And he was gone.  
  
Ree sank down into the closest chair, letting the pictures fall back to the table. What the hell had just happened?  
  
********************  
  
She was sure to have all betraying pictures carefully tucked away before his visit the next day. He'd gotten word to her that he'd be coming by to discuss this trip to France that she'd gotten roped into. Somehow, though, she found herself feeling unprepared when he knocked at the door.  
  
It might have had something to do with the fact that she'd felt the need to change three times before she was satisfied with what she was wearing. Or with the fact that their meeting yesterday had played itself over and over again in her mind, making it almost impossible for her to get any sleep. Whatever the case, she jumped at his knock, feeling her heart race at the thought of seeing him again.  
  
"Don't be stupid, Ree," she muttered under her breath, "He's not the guy from your dreams. He just looks like him. Although. there is something about him." She took a deep breath, pasted a smile on her face and opened the door.  
  
To a smiling Jack Bristow.  
  
This was not something she'd expected from any of the scenarios she'd imagined for their next meeting. She stared at him, stunned at the effect it made on his whole. aura, for lack of a better word.  
  
He stepped in closer, his gaze softening and dropping to her lips. "I'm being followed," he murmured, reaching out to take one of her hands in his. "Play along and we'll get into the house where we can't be seen."  
  
He raised his free hand to caress her cheek and leaned in to kiss her. "It'll be all right," he whispered just before their lips touched.  
  
He'd intended for it to be a brief brush of lips and was completely unprepared for the heat that sprang up between them. He pulled his head back in shock, then made the mistake of looking into her eyes. The vulnerability and surprised desire he saw there had him dipping his head again to hers against his better judgement.  
  
This time the kiss was harder, darker, more urgent. When she opened her mouth under his he felt his own desire flare out of control. He backed her through the door, kicking it closed behind him, and pinned her against the wall. His hands came up to her head, angling it to give him better access to the depths of her mouth.  
  
Ree couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything except respond blindly. She could feel every inch of his body against hers. Her hands slipped under his suit jacket, running up the taut strong muscles of his back. She pulled him even closer, tipping her hips up to cradle his arousal. He shuddered under her touch as her fingers found their way under his shirt and onto bare flesh.  
  
His own hands slid under her shirt, shoving it up to expose her breasts. As he stroked and caressed her through the silken material of her bra, her head fell back and she gasped for breath. He pushed the material up, not wanting to take the time to undo it and cupped her breasts in his large hands for a moment before bending his head to take one into his mouth.  
  
Her knees buckled at the warm, wet feel of his mouth and the swirl of his tongue over her nipple. He surged against her, holding her up with his own body. The sensations were exquisitely pleasurable, leaving her unable to do anything but hold his head to her breast.  
  
The ringing of the phone broke them out of the spell of their passion, but for a moment neither was able to move. Jack pulled himself away first, running an unsteady hand through his hair.  
  
Ree felt absolutely shattered. She watched him turn his back on her and stalk away while she fought to clear her head. The quick, rough sound of their breathing made a strange counterpoint to the ringing of the phone.  
  
She stared at his back, watching him struggle to regain control, wondering how he'd found the strength to move. It wasn't until she heard her own voice as the answering machine picked up that she realized she was still standing there exposed. She pulled everything back into place with trembling hands and tried to collect her thoughts - find something to say. Her own voice was followed by that of some woman asking for more information about her portrait services.  
  
As the message ended, Ree looked over and met Jack's eyes. The taut skin over his cheekbones was still flushed with passion - and she thought, as his eyes fell away from hers, perhaps some embarrassment as well.  
  
"This shouldn't have happened," he said harshly. "I don't know." He stopped himself, shaking his head. "That's irrelevant for the time being. I should apologize. I was being observed and thought I could use the opportunity to begin establishing the cover we'll be using in France. I didn't intend for it to get so. out of hand."  
  
"Should apologize?" Ree questioned smoothly. "Should, but aren't going to?"  
  
He met her eyes again, anger flaring alongside the smoldering passion. "I'm not here to play word games with you, Ms. Ash."  
  
She raised her eyebrows. "Ree, please." It seemed as if some part of her had decided that cool superiority was her best defense at the moment. At the same time, another part of her was thinking, damn. The dreams were never this wild.  
  
"Ree," he said icily, "let's get down to business before any more . unfortunate accidents occur, shall we?"  
  
Accidents? She controlled her anger at the choice of words. After all, what would she have preferred him to do or say? Declare his undying love? She shook her head at her own foolishness. "Go ahead," she said finally. "Let's get this over with."  
  
"Fine." Jack took a moment to collect himself, unaware of how sexy he appeared to her with half of his shirt still untucked and hanging out below his jacket. Thoroughly mussed, she mused and had to force her attention back to his words as he began speaking.  
  
"We leave this afternoon on a plane to Paris. I have a meet set up for tomorrow afternoon, which you will conveniently stumble into. I'll rush you off; we'll have a short tender exchange in view of his guards, and I'll send you on your way with promises to return to you at our hotel shortly. Then I'll return to the meeting with some embarrassed apologies for the interruption, and." he shrugged, "the rest will follow naturally from there."  
  
She nodded, "Sounds simple enough. And then we meet back at the hotel for appearance's sake and get the hell out of Dodge as quickly as we can manage."  
  
"Exactly. Any questions?"  
  
"Just one." She looked him square in the eye, "Are you going to be able to handle this 'tender' bit? Because based on what you've shown me so far."  
  
He glared at her for a moment. "I'll handle it just fine. You simply worry about yourself. I'll pick you up at 2:30 this afternoon. Be ready." He turned to stalk out the door, but she stopped him.  
  
"Jack?"  
  
"Yes?" he said tightly, glancing back over his shoulder at her.  
  
"Um, you might want to, uh. straighten up a bit before you go?"  
  
He glanced down, noticing his untucked shirt for the first time, and flushed yet again.  
  
"On the other hand," she said a bit snidely, "maybe you ought to leave it alone. It'll add - what's the word? - 'verisimilitude' to our cover."  
  
He threw her another quick glare and headed out the door without another word, tucking his shirt in as he went.  
  
Great, she thought as she watched him go. This makes twice in two days that I've stood here like an idiot wondering what in the hell just happened.  
  
She shook her head again and headed upstairs to pack for Paris. 


	3. Chapter 3

********************  
  
They sat quietly together on the plane; each lost in their own thoughts. They'd spoken earlier about the way it was all going to go down: openly checking into a hotel together, leaving in the morning with a public show of affection before going their separate ways, the "accidental" meeting in the small museum where Jack was to meet with their target, returning to the hotel where they'd spend the rest of the weekend holed up like the lovers they were pretending to be. And with all that settled, they'd found themselves with nothing else to say.  
  
Or rather with far too many things to say - none of which they dared to voice. What do you say to a man who has haunted your dreams for more years than you cared to count? She glanced surreptitiously over at Jack, who was staring straight ahead with a complete lack of expression on his face. She'd tried to make small talk with him before and had received a withering stare in response.  
  
After that, she'd retreated to the safety of a book, grateful that she'd been smart enough to stick one in her carry-on bag at the last moment. Not that she was going to remember a word she'd read, unfortunately. She kept catching her mind wandering, comparing Jack to the man from her dreams. When she realized she'd been staring at the same page for over twenty minutes she finally gave up. She closed the book, turned her head towards the window and pretended to sleep.  
  
Good. She was sleeping, Jack thought. Nothing about this situation had gone the way he'd intended. He couldn't stop thinking about the reams of paper covered with sketches of himself - and that incredible, incendiary kiss. How had that happened? He always kept himself under very tight control - except perhaps in matters relating to Sydney. But this morning with Ree. What he'd planned to be a brief perfunctory kiss - strictly for show - had turned into something hot, wet, and entirely mind-bending. Thinking about it he could remember the taste of her lips, the feel of her breast in his hand, the soft whimper when he'd put his mouth on her. His body tightened uncomfortably at the memory and he shifted uneasily in his seat.  
  
Get yourself under control, Jack, he thought harshly. God knew he hadn't been celibate since Laura's death, but the women he'd had were few and far between. And impersonal. Almost businesslike, he reflected with some dismay. Had he really become that closed off and hardened?  
  
Yes. And for good reason, he reminded himself. After Laura's betrayal he had sworn never to let someone - anyone - close to him again. Not even his beloved Sydney. He'd succeeded in keeping her away for a long time, until circumstances had forced him to act or watch her be killed. And once that door had been opened he found he wanted more. Wanted more and feared it at the same time. Had that contributed to his current predicament?  
  
It didn't matter, he thought dismissively. He'd do what he had to do and deal with the rest of it later. He turned his head away from Ree and pretended to sleep himself.  
  
As they disembarked from the plane Jack reached out and took Ree by the hand - steeling himself mentally against the contact. She looked up at him in surprise and he forced a smile. "From here on in we need to assume we could be under surveillance at any time. We don't drop the cover unless we're alone in our hotel room."  
  
Ree nodded and smiled hesitantly up at him. He squeezed her hand and held his own smile. "I'll get you through this," he said with quiet assurance.  
  
She was surprised at how. right. it felt to be walking with him like this. She could almost pretend she was in one of her dreams. In fact, that might be a good way to get through the next couple of days.  
  
Decision made, she looked up again and gave him a real smile before glancing around to see where they were headed next. She had no idea how strongly that simple trust - freely given - affected him. He closed his eyes for a moment against the wave of protectiveness and desire flooding through him, then guided her over to Customs.  
  
********************  
  
She hadn't slept well - the time change, the length of the journey, and a strange bed all combining to create a restless night. Well, that and knowing that Jack was sleeping only a few feet from her. She lay awake with her eyes closed, trying to run over the plans for the day. She found it hard to concentrate. A part of her mind insisted on listening to the evenness of Jack's breathing and wondering what it would be like if he were sleeping in the bed beside her. She found herself remembering the feel of his hands on her, his dark intensity. What would have happened if the phone hadn't rung and interrupted them?  
  
Her face flushed both with the memory and with the embarrassment of knowing that she wouldn't have made any attempt to stop him - regardless of how far things had gone.  
  
"Are you awake?" Jack's deep voice interrupted her musings, embarrassing her even further.  
  
"Yes," she said huskily, finding herself pulling the covers even more tightly up around her neck - as if she had not been fully covered by the sweatpants and T-shirt she had slept in.  
  
"Good," he said shortly, swinging his feet around to sit on the edge of the couch where he'd slept.  
  
He looked even more attractive and somewhat vulnerable with his hair tousled from sleep and without his ever-present suit. The plain white T- shirt set off his powerfully muscled upper body and left her mouth a bit dry. She couldn't seem to pull her eyes away from him.  
  
"Is there a problem?" he said, noticing her stare.  
  
"No, no," she said, hastily dropping her eyes. "I was just thinking. You should let me sleep on the couch after this. You're so tall. It can't be very comfortable for you."  
  
"Unnecessary," he said bluntly. "I see no need to alter the sleeping arrangements." He rose and started for the bathroom, but hesitated at the door, "Unless you wanted to go first?"  
  
"No, no," she said again. "That's fine."  
  
He nodded and disappeared inside, closing the door firmly behind him.  
  
Ree slipped out of bed and quickly gathered together the things she would need to get ready. The sound of the shower stopped her and she couldn't keep herself from imagining Jack standing naked under the spray, water running down his -  
  
She put the brakes on her wayward imagination and made herself go back to straightening up the room.  
  
She bundled up the blanket and tossed it to the bed. The pillow held traces of his scent and she couldn't resist burying her face in it. The shower shut off with a creak causing her to jump. She quickly returned the pillow to the bed and busied herself remaking it.  
  
When Jack reentered the room a few minutes later, looking elegant in another suit, Ree was sitting in one of the comfortable chairs trying once again, without success, to read the book she'd brought along. He raised one eyebrow at the neatened room, but clearly approved.  
  
"It's all yours," he said and walked past her to retrieve his briefcase and lay it on the table.  
  
"Thank you," she murmured, "I'll just be a few minutes.  
  
Jack made a non-committal sound without even glancing in her direction. She watched him for another minute then closed herself into the bathroom.  
  
When she emerged about fifteen minutes later, Jack looked up from his PDA in surprise. "I told you I'd be quick," she said lightly.  
  
"Indeed." He made a last entry then tucked the PDA away inside his suit jacket. "Well, let's get going then. You won't have a problem finding the Musee D'Or?"  
  
"2PM. First floor, northwest corner. I'll be there."  
  
He nodded his approval. "Good. Then if you're ready?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
********************  
  
He took her hand while they were in the elevator. And Act One begins, she thought to herself. She found she was much less nervous about interrupting the meeting with one of the CIA's most wanted than she was about sharing a "tender moment" in public with Jack. Especially since the original "attempt" had turned very quickly into something not fit for public consumption.  
  
Jack cleared his throat and she realized that the elevator doors were about to open. She pulled herself together and looked up at him with what she hoped would read as a loving smile. She was surprised to see a similar look on his face, though she noticed the smile did not quite reach his eyes.  
  
They walked out of the elevator together, hand-in-hand. With her peripheral vision she saw a scattering of people in the lobby - both staff and clientele. Just before they reached the door Ree slowed as planned, causing Jack to turn and look at her quizzically. "I just wish you didn't have to go to those meetings today," she said wistfully.  
  
His entire face softened and he took a step toward her. Even knowing it was all an act, her heart melted. "Darling," he said quietly, letting his free hand reach out to stroke her face, "it's just this one day and then we'll have the whole weekend to ourselves." He tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear, letting his hand linger. "But I know what you mean. If there were any way."  
  
She nodded in resigned understanding and he moved in even closer, tipping her chin up with one finger. "I'll be done by 3:30, 4:00 at the latest. I'll meet you back here afterwards and we'll go for a stroll, have a romantic dinner, and then later." He dipped his head to take her mouth gently, but with great intensity of feeling, and she found herself responding in kind.  
  
When he drew back she could tell by the look in his eyes that he was as caught off guard by the power of it as she was. Despite his own uncertainties he continued with the act. Taking her face in his hands, he looked deep into her eyes and gave a small smile. "Do you have your maps? Enough money?"  
  
She nodded, not quite trusting herself to speak. He'd looked at her just that way in so many of her dreams - loving, protective.  
  
"Good," he said softly and leaned in to kiss her on the forehead. "Get yourself some breakfast - there's a wonderful little café down the street - and I'll see you here by four, okay?"  
  
"All right," she murmured and stretched up to kiss him gently on the cheek.  
  
He smiled again and walked smoothly through the doors into the bright sunshine.  
  
She watched him go and foolishly found herself wishing that this pretense was real.  
  
******************** 


	4. Chapter 4

********************  
  
1:45. She'd wandered about Paris for hours, not daring to let herself be caught up in its wonder and beauty. That's all she'd need - to lose track of time and miss or be late arriving for this all-important "accidental" meeting. She strolled along the street towards the Musee D'Or, trying to look like some carefree tourist - always mindful that she might be watched.  
  
Jack arrived right on time, striding quickly into the museum. She started - as if surprised to see him there - then hurried after him. She timed her speed to just barely keep him in sight, brushing past people as if unaware of them. She closed the distance between them as he entered the room at the end of the corridor. The two bodyguards flanking it watched him enter, giving her just enough of a window to push past them and through the door before they could stop her.  
  
"Jack!" she called delightedly, just before the bodyguards each clamped hands on her arms. Everyone in the room turned to stare at the interruption. Jack's jaw dropped as if in shock. She'd have to make a note to compliment him on his acting abilities later, but for now she had her own performance to pull off.  
  
Everything from that point on seemed to happen so quickly. The bodyguards were shouting at her and she let her voice drop to a quiet whimper as she looked around the room desperately - all the while memorizing faces - before turning back to the man moving swiftly toward her. "Jack?" she said plaintively, "I don't understand."  
  
He barked out a few words in French to the guards as he grabbed her himself and steered her back out the door. "I'm terribly sorry for the interruption," he threw back over his shoulder, "I'll just be a minute."  
  
He deliberately left the door open behind them, speaking loudly enough to allow himself to be heard inside. "Ree, what the hell?!"  
  
It wasn't hard for her to let tears fill her eyes. "Jack? I don't understand. I saw you come in and thought I'd catch you to say hello. And then those men grabbed me and started shouting, and -" She let the tears spill over.  
  
He closed his eyes for a brief moment as if trying to center himself. "Ree, don't cry, honey. I'm sorry if they scared you, but you just walked into a highly confidential meeting. I told you I needed to meet with some high-level people today. What were you thinking?"  
  
"I don't know," she said shakily. "I guess I wasn't. I just saw you and."  
  
"Ssh," he said more softly, pulling out a handkerchief - damn, she should have known he'd be the kind of man to always have one handy - and gently blotting at her tears. "It's all right. No harm done, but I need to go back in now. I'll see you back at our hotel about 3:30, okay?"  
  
"But Jack, why would you have your meeting in a museum, for heaven's sake? Shouldn't you be at a bank?"  
  
"One of the upper level men is on the board of directors at the museum. The only time he could fit me in was before a board meeting here, so." He shrugged. "We go where the client wants. I've had meetings in stranger places than this."  
  
"I suppose that makes sense," she said grudgingly.  
  
"Of course it does," he said firmly and bent to kiss her on the cheek. "I'll see you soon, Ree."  
  
She smiled tearfully in response then left, breathing a sigh of relief that her part in all of this was done.  
  
He watched her go, standing there for a moment longer than necessary with a half smile on his lips. She was good. He had to give her that. With a mental shake he turned his attentions back to the task at hand.  
  
He re-entered the room, apologizing in fluent French, "I am terribly sorry," he said again.  
  
"Who was that woman?" Henri demanded.  
  
"She is a . friend. of mine," Jack said, flushing slightly. "She thinks I'm a portfolio manager for a bank. I told her we were having a meeting here."  
  
"And she believed you?"  
  
"She believes anything I choose to tell her," Jack said with deliberate arrogance. "She is of no threat to any of us."  
  
Henri looked at him assessingly, then nodded. "I will accept your judgement," he said finally, "for now. But really, Mr. Bristow, this carelessness is not like you. Sloane led me to expect more from you."  
  
Jack colored again. "I know. And again I apologize. However, I assure you I do have the situation well in hand."  
  
"I certainly hope so," Henri replied. "It would be a shame to have to kill such a lovely woman."  
  
"I'll dispose of her myself if it becomes necessary," Jack said coldly.  
  
Henri laughed delightedly. "Now that is the Jack Bristow I have heard so much about! Shall we get down to business? We would not want you to keep your 'friend' waiting any longer than you must."  
  
********************  
  
Jack arrived back at the hotel lobby at ten of four and stopped dead at the sight of Arvin Sloane sitting companionably with Ree at one of the small tables there.  
  
Ree saw him first and he had just enough time to plaster a twisted smile on his face before Sloane turned around and saw him. Ree rose and came over to him, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek. "Darling, I've just been talking with a friend of yours. Arvin is quite the charmer," she said with a smile over her shoulder at the older man. 'What do we do?' her eyes said when she looked back at Jack.  
  
He slipped an arm around her and returned her to the table. He pulled her chair out and then sat down beside her. "Arvin," he said, managing to keep the tension out of his voice, "what a surprise to see you here."  
  
"Oh no, you're far more of a surprise," Sloane said with a grin. "Where have you been hiding this beautiful woman? I don't think I've known you to go away with someone since. Well, it would be since before Laura died, now wouldn't it?"  
  
"Yes, I suppose it would," Jack said coolly while Ree looked from one man to the other, sensing the undercurrents, but not understanding exactly what was going on.  
  
"Well, I must say, I'm a bit hurt you didn't let me know you'd both be over here. But now that I've run into you, you must join me at my country house. I get over here so rarely now that it's always a treat to be able to share it with an old friend."  
  
"That won't be necessary," Jack said stiffly. "We certainly appreciate the offer, but we had plans for a quiet evening here. And we wouldn't want to put you out."  
  
"Oh, no trouble, no trouble," Sloane said heartily. "I'm always at loose ends when Emily isn't able to travel with me. And, as it turns out, I have plans myself for this evening. So, you see, things will work out very nicely. You can have your nice romantic dinner and then you can spend the night at my house. You'll have the run of the place while I'm taking care of some business tomorrow and then we can have a pleasant dinner together tomorrow night." He smiled at the stunned couple. "All settled then?"  
  
"Arvin," Jack began.  
  
"Now Jack, I insist," Sloane interrupted. "In fact, I've already taken the liberty of arranging for your things to be sent over to the house later this evening. My housekeeper will show you to your room whenever you arrive." His face looked harder and colder. "I won't take no for an answer."  
  
Jack's lips tightened, but he nodded his head in acknowledgement. "In that case," he said tightly, "we would be delighted."  
  
Sloane smirked and rose from his chair. "Wonderful. Ree, it's been a pleasure. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow night."  
  
Jack motioned for Ree to remain where she was and walked toward the door with Sloane. "Arvin, are you here checking up on me?"  
  
"Is there a reason I should be?"  
  
"I don't know. You tell me. You're the one who's here in Paris unexpectedly."  
  
"No, Jack, I'd say that I'm not." He looked pointedly back at Ree.  
  
"Don't go there, Arvin."  
  
"Why not? You're the one who brought her here." He moved in a little closer, "Come on, Jack, I hear you buy tickets for two people. I'm thinking, maybe Sydney, but then my source here in Paris says you're with some unknown woman?"  
  
"You are checking up on me. What the hell is this about, Arvin? Since when did you start prying into my personal life?"  
  
"That's just it, Jack. You don't have a personal life! There's all this concern about The Man and our recent problem with a mole and then my top man suddenly starts acting out of character? I don't know, Jack."  
  
"What exactly are you suggesting, Arvin?" Jack's face showed a righteous fury, but cold fear knotted in the pit of his stomach.  
  
"Ah, Jack," Arvin waved a hand dismissively. "It's not me as much as it is The Alliance. They want everything looked into." He tipped his head toward Ree. "I assume you've had her background investigated?"  
  
"Of course," Jack lied smoothly. He hadn't bothered with more than a cursory check since she'd already been vetted by the CIA. "Standard 10 year. Everything's clean. I don't expect anything to show up on the deeper investigation." He made a mental note to run a check and backdate it for the record.  
  
"Good." Sloane's tone made it clear the conversation was finished. "Then I'll expect you to arrive at the house later tonight and I'll see you both for dinner tomorrow." He left without waiting for a response from Jack.  
  
********************  
  
Ree looked up as Jack returned to the table with a look of controlled anger on his face. "Jack.?" she started.  
  
"Not now," he said coldly. "We are undoubtedly being observed. I'll explain what I can at dinner tonight. In the meantime we should go up to the room and get our things together."  
  
"Are we really going to spend the weekend at his house?" she asked nervously.  
  
"We have no choice," he said bluntly.  
  
********************  
  
He used the time while she was getting dressed for dinner to regain control of his composure, only to lose it again in a completely different way when she stepped out into the room. The simple black dress she was wearing clung lovingly to every curve, showcasing her elegant beauty in a way that had him reacting in a purely masculine fashion.  
  
She looked at him questioningly. "Is something wrong?" She glanced down at the dress, "Too formal? Not formal enough? I could always -"  
  
"No," he said, cutting her off. "Nothing is wrong. You look lovely. I was just."  
  
"Surprised at how well I clean up?" she asked ruefully.  
  
He met her gaze fully. "No," he said quietly. "Your beauty was never in doubt."  
  
She was flustered by his unexpected directness and tried to cover it. "Why, Jack, are you flirting with me?" she said with a strained attempt at lightness.  
  
He shrugged noncommittally. "It certainly wouldn't be a prudent thing to do," he admitted, "but." He left the rest unsaid and she turned away to get her wrap, feeling totally unnerved.  
  
"Are we ready?" he said after a moment.  
  
She looked up at him, searching his face, but couldn't read it.  
  
He gave her a half-smile. "Trust me," he said. "It will be all right."  
  
"That's what you said the last time," she said under her breath as she preceded him out of the room.  
  
******************** 


	5. Chapter 5

********************  
  
They rode to the restaurant in almost complete silence. Both felt that some sort of shift had occurred in their relationship, but neither knew exactly what it meant or how they felt about it. And both knew there couldn't have been a much worse time for whatever it was to have happened.  
  
He handed her out of the cab when they arrived, then leaned down as if to kiss her on the cheek. "I recognize the man on the far right in the dark suit," he said in a low voice, "and there are undoubtedly others. We'll need to be very careful."  
  
"Of course," she murmured, smiling up at him and making sure not to glance in the direction of the man he'd mentioned.  
  
The maitre'd led them to a small intimate table far away from prying eyes. When the man had left them alone, Jack took her hand and moved his chair even closer. He bent his head in towards hers. "I think we should be all right here as long as we speak softly. Just be careful that your face-"  
  
"Yes, I know," she interrupted. "Now please - who the hell is this Sloane character?"  
  
Jack's face tightened despite his best efforts. "He's a very dangerous man. And I didn't anticipate his coming to Paris." He was quiet for a moment, not sure how much he should - or could - tell her. "What did he say to you earlier? How did you meet him?"  
  
"He was already in the lobby when I got back to the hotel. The manager pointed me out to him and he came right over." She remembered how he'd looked at her that first moment - a cold reptilian gaze, assessing her for any signs of weakness - and how his face had changed as he'd approached her. He'd acted every bit the benevolent friend, saying he'd heard she and Jack were staying there and thought he'd try and catch Jack to say hello.  
  
"There was something not right about him," she said slowly. "I knew, oh, I don't know. that something was very wrong. I guess I knew that there was a real problem." She looked up at Jack who, despite the slightly turned up corners of his mouth, was definitely not smiling.  
  
"Go on," he said tightly.  
  
"We made some small talk. The weather, how beautiful Paris was. He wanted to know how long you and I had known each other, how we'd met. I gave him the story we'd worked out and he seemed to buy it."  
  
They'd come up with a scenario, just in case they were asked. How they'd bumped into one another in a store and Ree's purse had been left behind. How Jack had returned it to her house and been talked into staying for coffee. And that over the course of a couple of weeks the relationship had quickly progressed to the point where, when Jack had had the opportunity to go to Paris on business, he'd asked her to join him.  
  
"He told me he worked with you at the bank, asked if you'd said how you were enjoying your work there," she continued. "And I told him you didn't talk about it much, but as far as I knew it seemed to be going well."  
  
Jack nodded, still holding on to his forced smile. "Sounds good. Did he ask you what you do for a living?"  
  
Ree grimaced, "Yes. And I wasn't sure what to tell him, but I had this gut feeling that he'd either already checked me out or was going to and that the more truthful I was the better. So I said I did some portraits and that occasionally I worked with several law enforcement agencies as a sketch artist."  
  
"Probably a smart move," Jack conceded. "Sloane's presence here is very disturbing. And his insistence on our staying at the estate where everything we say and do will be monitored suggests." His voice trailed off and he shook his head, "No, you're right. If he doesn't already know who you are, he will by tomorrow night, so you did the right thing."  
  
Something caught his eye and he glanced up quickly. "Let's dance."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Get up. We're being watched. If we dance it will be that much harder to be overheard."  
  
"Of course. Well then, if you'll excuse any clumsiness?"  
  
He smiled and this time it almost reached his eyes. "I think I can manage to get you through."  
  
"All right then," she said lightly and took his proffered hand.  
  
He led her to the small dance floor and she moved into his arms. It was unnerving to stand so close to him, to feel the warmth radiating off of his body, to be surrounded by his scent. She found herself trembling slightly. Despite her best intentions she was falling for him. It was stupid, she knew. He was clearly a spy - and worse, clearly working undercover for the government in some other agency. Even this man's secrets had secrets.  
  
But there was a vulnerability behind his strength that drew her to him, made her want to find a way behind his walls. And at the same time she felt safe with him. She knew instinctively that if something happened he would do everything in his power to protect her.  
  
Just like the man she had been dreaming of all these years.  
  
The song segued into an even slower tune and Jack found himself holding her more tightly. He could feel her trembling, knew she had to be frightened by what had happened, and wanted instinctively to reassure her. He pulled her closer, gently urging her to take strength from his presence, urging her to rest her head on his chest. He knew they should be taking the opportunity to discuss their next move, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to ruin the moment.  
  
It felt so right.  
  
She let herself relax into him, allowing one hand to move to the back of his neck. She toyed with his hair - so soft - and let herself be lulled by the beating of his heart. One of his hands stroked her hair, while the one at the small of her back held her tightly to him. For a moment they both just let themselves feel.  
  
The electricity built between them. She trembled again as he stroked the nape of her neck and this time he knew it wasn't fear that caused her reaction. She looked up at him with eyes so clear he felt as if he could see into her very soul. He stroked her again and watched as her eyes darkened with desire. It was all he could do not to take her mouth again and he felt himself harden as he remembered the last time they'd kissed. Her eyes strayed to his mouth, then up again to meet his eyes and he knew she was remembering it, too.  
  
In an effort to keep himself from doing something he'd regret later, Jack broke eye contact and lowered his head until their cheeks were almost touching. He struggled to find something that would distract them both and finally gave in to the curiosity that he'd been suppressing since he'd met her. "Tell me about this man in your dreams," he rumbled.  
  
For some reason the thought of talking about it with him didn't bother her now, when all of her senses were so focused on Jack. "He's strong, protective, but always gentle with me. I feel this almost indescribable sense of safety when I'm with him - regardless of what might be happening around us. It's very comforting." She sighed, thinking of the dreams. He murmured some sort of wordless encouragement and held her even closer. "But there are times when the dreams are disturbing," she added.  
  
"How so?"  
  
"There are times when I look at him and I know there are things he can't tell me. And I know he's done things." her voice trailed off.  
  
Jack felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He was starting to think that somehow she had been dreaming about him - no matter how crazy that seemed. And if she had. "What kind of things?" he asked warily.  
  
"Terrible things," she said quietly. "Don't get me wrong, even though he can't tell me, I know he doesn't have a choice about them; that he's done them to protect others, to save his country, but. I know he's hurt people. Killed them or let them be killed."  
  
He stiffened and drew away from her a bit. "How can you be sure he doesn't have a choice? How do you know he's working on the right side?"  
  
She met his eyes solidly, "The same way that I know you're a good man. I don't need to hear you say that you're working undercover for one of the government agencies to know that that's what this is all about. And I know you could never work for the bad guys. It's not in your nature."  
  
"Don't ever mention your speculations aloud again," Jack said harshly once he'd gotten over his shock at her words. "I've already told you I'm a portfolio manager for Credit Dauphine. Any suggestion that you might think otherwise could cost you your life."  
  
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I know better, but I. I guess I just wanted to let you know that I knew. that I. I won't ever say anything again. I swear. I understand the danger to you as well."  
  
"Any danger I might be in is irrelevant," he said dismissively, "My concern is for you."  
  
She looked up at him wonderingly. "I have been dreaming about you, haven't I? You are that man."  
  
"I don't know," he said tightly, "but I'm beginning to think that, unlikely as it sounds, that may be the case." He was clearly bothered by the idea.  
  
Both were silent for a moment, still moving together, but without the intimacy of a moment before. After a long silence, Jack spoke again; unable to stop himself from asking the question he suddenly needed to know the answer to, "And what do you do in these dreams? When he tells you or you know that these terrible things have happened?"  
  
"Not much." Her eyes were faraway and sad. "It's hard for him to let me in. I just try to be there for him, support him in whatever way he'll allow. But once."  
  
Every bit of Jack's being waited for her to finish.  
  
"One time," she went on, "one time he let me hold him while he cried."  
  
******************** 


	6. Chapter 6

********************  
  
It was late when they arrived at Sloane's place. Ree's nerves were completely on edge. They knew there was a high likelihood that there would be audio and video surveillance on them the entire time that they were there. They couldn't get away with separate sleeping arrangements as they had at the hotel. Just imagining herself sleeping in the same bed with Jack - especially after that interlude on the dance floor. And they'd have to make at least some pretense of closeness if not actual intimacy.  
  
They were greeted by a matronly woman who somehow gave the impression that she was used to people coming and going at all hours of the day and night. She brought them directly to their room, assuring them that all of their things had arrived safely and urging them to 'sleep in and enjoy themselves' in the morning.  
  
And then they were left alone.  
  
They turned off the lights almost immediately. Neither of them had the sort of nightwear that would be expected of two lovers, nor were they willing to go without, so they felt the less that could be seen the better. They climbed into bed, both clad merely in T-shirts and underwear, and lay stiffly on their own sides of the bed.  
  
Ree turned onto her left side with her back toward Jack. She found herself shivering uncontrollably as reaction from the day's events set in. She just couldn't seem to stop.  
  
"Are you cold?" Jack asked quietly.  
  
She shook her head no and then realized he couldn't see that in the dark. "No," she replied, equally quietly, "I'm just. terrified." She turned back towards him at the same time he was shifting towards her and they met in a surprised clash of limbs. Somehow she found herself in his arms with her head bumped up against his chest. They both froze for a moment, then with a sigh Jack made himself untense his muscles. "It's all right," he said, knowing it was a mistake even as he said it. "Just relax. I'll keep you safe."  
  
Ree found herself calming despite herself. The heat radiating off of his body soaked into hers and settled her down. She let her head and one hand rest on his chest and let herself be lulled once again by the rhythm of his heartbeat and breathing.  
  
They lay in each other's arms, lost in their own thoughts, which inevitably moved towards one another. And suddenly the entire tenor of the embrace changed. Electricity began to move between them and each could think of nothing but the other. Ree shifted uneasily and brushed against Jack's growing erection. He groaned and she froze, caught between being mortified and wanting desperately to explore. She found herself almost unbearably aroused by his reaction to her nearness.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said in a strangled voice, "I won't apologize for my reaction to you, but I am sorry for putting you in an uncomfortable position. I give you my word that I will not make any unwelcome advances." Despite his words he didn't seem able to make himself move away.  
  
Ree took what felt like the biggest risk in her life up to that point. She reached up and stroked his face, hearing his breathing grow rough at her touch. "And if they weren't unwelcome?" she breathed.  
  
Jack tilted her face up to his. "Ree." he said, half questioningly and half warningly.  
  
In response she pulled his head down and opened her mouth under his.  
  
The heat engulfed them both immediately. If she'd had room to think, she might have been surprised that there was no awkwardness between them. It was as if they'd been lovers for years, desperate to know one another's bodies after a long separation.  
  
His hands were hot against her skin as they pulled her T-shirt off and stroked the exposed skin. He pulled his mouth away from hers to look down at what he'd uncovered. "I remember," he said licking one finger and using it to draw designs on her breasts, "I remember the sound you made." He dipped his head and put his mouth on her, stroking with his tongue.  
  
She whimpered and his lips curved against her skin. "That's the sound," he said huskily. "You have no idea what that does to me."  
  
She tugged his shirt off to get at his bare skin. Her hands caressed him mindlessly, lost in the sensations he was creating inside her. The smoothness of his muscle and skin was broken in places with scars and she explored every centimeter she could reach. She whimpered again when he deserted one breast for another and was treated to another smile against her overheated skin.  
  
"I had to see if I could make you do that again."  
  
"Shut up and kiss me."  
  
He moved obligingly up her body and took her mouth again. His hands continued to stroke and touch, sliding down further and further until she was writhing beneath him, then finally drawing her underwear off and tossing them to the side. He let himself come down heavily against her, letting her feel the power of his need for her, before sliding a hand between them to touch her with a finesse that sent her over the edge.  
  
She clung to him, shaking, as he broke their kiss again to send his mouth following the trail his hands had blazed.  
  
"Jack."  
  
"Shhhh... Let me."  
  
He sent her flying again, overwhelmed with feeling, hardly able to tell where she left off and he began. He pulled away from her and she protested wordlessly, but he was only pulling off the rest of his clothes. When he came back to her she could feel the entire length of him against her and she shuddered at the full body caress. She pulled his mouth back up to hers and tangled her tongue with his. Her hands wandered lower, over his powerful buttocks and around to stroke the hard silken length of him. He gasped and it was her turn to smile against his lips.  
  
"God, Ree, I have to. I can't - " He moved between her legs and she welcomed his first powerful thrust.  
  
The feel of him moving inside her was incredible. Their bodies moved together faster and faster until they were both lost in the wonder and beauty.  
  
Afterwards they collapsed together, waiting for the pounding of their hearts to slow. Jack rolled to his back. He knew he should never have let this happen. What the hell had he been thinking?  
  
"Jack," Ree slid herself against him. "I know what you're thinking, and maybe you're right, but for now, can't we just let it be? Deal with it in the morning?" She kissed him and he felt his blood begin to heat again. "Let us have tonight."  
  
His body was already reacting to her touch and he found that he couldn't deny either one of them. "All right," he said thickly and gathered her into his arms once again.  
  
Afterwards they slept in each other's arms. Jack awoke in the early morning hours, fully aroused and with a craving for her that he couldn't resist. He made love to her gently, dreamlike, both of them half-asleep, then tucked her tightly against him and drifted off, feeling whole and content for the first time in a long time.  
  
********************  
  
When she woke up she was alone in the bed. She sat up drowsily to look around. Jack was across the room staring out of a window. He was fully dressed in his usual suit and looked as closed off as she'd ever seen him. He must have sensed her stirring since he turned to meet her gaze. He looked rapidly away and Ree blushed, pulling the sheet up to cover herself.  
  
"Good morning," Jack said uncomfortably. "Did you. sleep well?"  
  
"Um, yes," Ree replied, wondering if the situation could possibly feel any more awkward. "And you?"  
  
"Fine."  
  
They lapsed into silence. Ree tried to figure out how she could get to her clothes with the least amount of embarrassment. Jack suddenly seemed to realize her predicament and flushed. "I'm sorry," he said quickly, "I should -" He cut himself off as he remembered the surveillance equipment. It was not at all like him to forget that sort of thing - even for a moment. He put on a strained smile and made himself move toward the bed. He bent to kiss her lightly, resisting his body's urge to ravish her mouth again. "I couldn't sleep," he said, "I'm sorry if I woke you. I should have left the room, but I couldn't seem to leave you." He saw the sudden realization in her eyes and nodded.  
  
"I thought we were going to sleep in this morning," she said a bit teasingly, deciding to play her part fully.  
  
"I know, darling, but I just feel uncomfortable here," he replied. "Being in Arvin's house and all."  
  
"I suppose," Ree acknowledged. "So, what shall we do instead?"  
  
Jack flushed a bit at her implication, but maintained his composure, "There are a number of nice places to walk nearby. I thought we might have breakfast here and then go out for the day."  
  
"Sounds lovely," Ree said. During the entire conversation, she'd been trying to determine how she could get herself out of bed and to the bathroom without exposing herself any more than necessary. Even if the situation with Jack hadn't felt awkward enough, he'd reminded her that everything she did could most likely be seen by others.  
  
Finally she tugged the sheet free and wrapped it around herself as she stood. Jack raised an eyebrow at her. "Well, you're the one who said he was uncomfortable in his friend's house," Ree said lightly and swept up her bag as she exited to the bathroom.  
  
******************** 


	7. Chapter 7

********************  
  
They'd been off of Sloane's estate for a good twenty minutes but were still maintaining an awkward silence. Finally Ree couldn't take it any longer. "All right. Let's talk about this," she said abruptly. "This is crazy."  
  
"I know," Jack said after a moment. "I just don't know what to say."  
  
"I understand," Ree said sympathetically. "We couldn't have found a worse time or situation for this if we'd tried. But here we are." She moved away a few steps before continuing. "This whole. attraction. has caught me off guard. I don't do things like this. It's not the sort of thing I take lightly. And I know I can't speak for you, but in some ways - because of the dreams, I guess - I feel like I know you. And I don't think this is something you usually do either."  
  
"You're right," Jack said plainly. "It's not. And I don't know what to do about it any more than you do. I'm not very good at . personal matters. This is certainly not something that I expected."  
  
"But do you regret it?" Ree asked.  
  
Jack hesitated. "No," he said finally. "No. I regret the timing and the situation, but even though I probably should, I don't regret making love to you last night. But I don't know how advisable it would be for us to continue in any sort of a relationship."  
  
Ree nodded. "I understand. There are lots of reasons why any relationship would be problematic." She sighed. "But at the same time, having finally met the man from my dreams - literally - I can't imagine just letting you walk out of my life without at least making an attempt at working things out." She paused, not sure what to say next and not wanting to look at Jack to see his reaction.  
  
He was silent for a long moment. Finally, he turned towards her. "I don't want to let this go either," he said slowly, "but it's been a long time. And I'm not good at this." He let out a long breath. "When I'm with you I feel things - more than I'm comfortable with. I've spent the last twenty years keeping everyone at a distance, but for some reason I can't do that with you. And I'd be lying if I said I was happy about that."  
  
He looked down at the ground then stared off through the trees. "I can't promise you anything. And there's so much I can't - won't - be able to tell you. So much of my life that I could never share with you."  
  
"I know what you are, Jack and I can accept that," Ree said gently. "And I'm not asking for any promises." She walked over to him and reached up to touch the side of his face, "I'd just like to give this - us - a chance."  
  
There was something incredibly compelling about her unquestioning acceptance. Here was someone who knew - who understood - what he was. Someone he didn't have to lie to. Someone who wouldn't ask him to. Jack was so tired of all the lies and deception. They weighed him down until there were times he thought he wouldn't have the strength to be able to get up in the morning and carry them for one more day. For so long Jack had kept himself isolated, first from the sheer agony of having everything he had thought was real ripped out from under him, and later because he could never allow himself to expose someone he might love to the risks inherent in his position. How could he put an unsuspecting person in that kind of danger? And how could he take the chance of them discovering his true self and walking away in disgust?  
  
But Ree knew. Somehow she knew it all. The good, the bad, and the ugly.  
  
And despite everything, she cared about him.  
  
About him.  
  
Not what he could do for her, not for his skills with intelligence gathering and intimidation, but for him - Jonathan Donahue Bristow. And that, perhaps, was the reason he couldn't just let her go: the reason he was so drawn to her and so unable to keep her at a distance. From the moment he'd met her, seen those damn pictures and the journals, there'd been a connection that went far beyond the physical attraction that still startled him with its intensity.  
  
She cared about him.  
  
And no one had cared about Jack Bristow for a very long time.  
  
He hadn't known how much a man's soul could crave something which seemed so simple. Nor how impossible it would be to walk away from it when it was handed to him.  
  
His hand came up to cover hers. "All right," he said quietly, "I don't think I could let you go if I wanted to."  
  
She smiled up at him.  
  
Their eyes met and held. And then, without conscious thought on either of their parts, they were kissing.  
  
It was gentle and heartbreakingly sweet. Their lips brushed and clung, drawing them further into the kiss. Ree found herself hyper aware of him: the warmth of his body, the gentleness of his hand clenching and unclenching in her hair, the scent of his aftershave, and under that the scent that was wholly Jack - wholly male. She slid her arms under his suit coat and around his back, fitting her body to his, rising up on her toes to better meet his mouth.  
  
His mouth became more demanding, more urgent. She let herself melt into him, gave herself over to feeling and emotion. He backed her up against a tree, holding her there with his body and giving his hands free reign to wander. All she could do was hold on for dear life.  
  
He pulled his mouth away from her and rested his forehead against hers, "Damn it, Ree," he rasped, "whenever I touch you I lose control. I want you again. God, I could take you right here, right now."  
  
"Then take me. Right here and right now," she said, surprising even herself. "Why not? There's no one to see, no surveillance."  
  
"It's broad daylight."  
  
"You think I want you any less because I can see you?" Just the thought of being able to see all of him was making her heart pound. "Come on, Jack, don't you want to see me?" She slipped out of his grasp and pulled her shirt over her head. It got caught on her earrings so she removed those, too and set them on the ground. She turned slightly away to unzip her jeans and pulled them down, tossing them to lie with her shirt.  
  
Clad only in her underwear, she returned to a stunned Jack standing by the tree. She moved against him, letting him feel every inch of her, and began to loosen his tie. She used the ends of it to pull his mouth down until it almost touched hers, "I can feel how much you want me, Jack," she murmured. "All you have to do is reach out and take what you want."  
  
He shrugged off his suit coat and let her unbutton his shirt. Her cool hands stroked and caressed his skin as they released each button and he had to call on all of his powers of control to keep from pulling her to the ground and taking her without an ounce of finesse. It had been a long time since anyone had wanted to play these sorts of games with him, longer still since he'd allowed himself to let someone play them.  
  
When her mouth began to follow the path of her hands he groaned and put his hands behind him, holding onto the tree to keep from grabbing her and directing her hands and mouth where he wanted them. She left his shirt open but on him and moved to the zipper of his pants. When her hands reached in to touch him he nearly lost it and when she slipped his pants and underwear off his hips and knelt to take him in her mouth he did lose it.  
  
They were on the ground and he was inside her. It was hard and fast and the most incredible sex he'd ever had. He rolled off her, gasping for breath, and pulled her with him, unwilling to let her go for even a second. "God, Ree." He moved so he could look into her eyes, "Are you okay? I didn't mean to -"  
  
She put a finger against his lips to quiet him. "I like to know I can make you lose control." She replaced her finger with her lips. "Do it again," she whispered.  
  
******************** 


	8. Chapter 8

********************  
  
He watched her while she slept. She lay curled up in the sun-warmed grass, covered only by the suit jacket he'd draped over her. She smiled slightly in her sleep, her face looking as innocent as a child's.  
  
Jack sighed. He couldn't remember a time when he'd ever been able to sleep that peacefully.  
  
He still found it hard to believe that he and Ree had just made love in the middle of a wooded glade in broad daylight. He hadn't done anything like that since, well, since the early days with Laura.  
  
Laura.  
  
Not a place he let himself go very often. For years he'd worked on the premise that if he immersed himself in his job, took on every dangerous assignment that came his way, kept himself too busy to think, he would be able to keep her out of his thoughts.  
  
And what he couldn't fill with work he filled with alcohol.  
  
But no matter what he did he couldn't escape her.  
  
During the six months he'd spent in solitary confinement in a federal prison, he'd gone over every moment - every second - of their life together until he thought he would go insane.  
  
This moment - Truth or Lie? That moment - Truth or Lie? Their whole life together - Truth or Lie?  
  
Lie.  
  
Obviously.  
  
And then he had to look at it all again. How had he missed it? How had he not seen what she really was? What she was doing?  
  
How she had used him.  
  
He had sworn he would never let anyone get close to him again. Never take the chance of loving anyone again. If his judgement could have been so badly clouded by emotion then, it could happen another time.  
  
And he already had too many deaths on his conscience. Deaths that could have been prevented if he hadn't been such a trusting fool.  
  
So what the hell was he doing here, letting himself even consider involvement with someone else? Sex was one thing, but with Ree it was more than that. Frighteningly more.  
  
He looked back down at her sleeping form and caught himself almost smiling.  
  
Innocence.  
  
Openness.  
  
Laura had never looked like that. There'd always been this air of mystery - of things hidden. At the time it had only added to her allure. In hindsight, that should have been his first clue that something wasn't right.  
  
"Jack." Ree said sleepily.  
  
For a split second he thought the voice pulling him out of his reverie was Laura's and every muscle in his body tensed.  
  
"Jack?" Her voice sounded wary now. "Is everything all right?"  
  
He forced himself to relax and quirked his lips into an awkward smile. "It's fine. My mind was somewhere else and you startled me."  
  
"I'm sorry," she said, then half sat up and stretched out an arm to him. "Come here."  
  
He took her hand and allowed himself to be pulled down until he was sitting on the ground beside her.  
  
She lifted her face to his and kissed him, letting the suit jacket fall from her as she closed the distance between them. He allowed himself to indulge them both for a few minutes. Despite all of his misgivings, some part of him deep inside kept telling him that this was right.  
  
Ree lost herself in the kiss. Jack was so much more than she ever could have imagined. She'd never felt this way around anyone before - never been so open, so. uninhibited. It was a little frightening to feel so much. To fall so hard.  
  
Especially since being with Jack could never be easy.  
  
But somehow she didn't care.  
  
Jack was the one to break the kiss off, with a reluctance that she found touching. "It's getting late," he said gently. "And there are some things we need to do before we head back."  
  
Ree's face paled and she groped for his suit jacket to wrap around herself. "God. Sloane. I'd almost managed to forget." She looked around anxiously. "My clothes. I'd better get dressed."  
  
He gave her a hand up. "Yes, I think you'd better. Although," and he found a true smile, "you do look quite nice in my suit coat."  
  
The brilliant smile she gave him in return touched his heart. "Another time maybe?"  
  
He nodded and watched her cross to where he'd piled her clothes for her. "I brought a sketchpad with me. I thought we could take this opportunity to see if we can get a rough sketch of Henri done."  
  
"Sure. I was wondering when we'd be able to do that. Obviously our plan to draw him last night had to be put on hold." She finished straightening her clothing and came back over to him. "I'll need to draw a couple of quick thumbnail sketches. I didn't know which one he was, so I memorized them all. Once you've told me which one you're looking for I can do a more detailed drawing."  
  
"Photographic memory?"  
  
"For faces." She smiled. "Wish I could memorize everything that way." She took the small sketchbook and pencil he handed her and sat down cross- legged on the grass. "Okay. You just chime in when I've got enough done for you to know if I'm drawing the right guy."  
  
The fourth thumbnail she started was Henri and at Jack's go ahead she started to work in earnest. He watched her pencil fly across the paper, bringing the man's face to life. A crisp line here; a smudge there; fine lines under the eyes. After about half an hour of intent work, she showed the drawing to Jack. "Will that do?" she asked. "I can always add color when we get home, but with just pencil."  
  
"It's excellent." Jack took the picture and folded it carefully, tucking it away in his wallet behind a photo of a young woman. He noticed Ree's curious glance. "My daughter. Sydney."  
  
Ree nodded, knowing instinctively that this was not the time to ask questions about Jack's daughter. She gave him a smile instead and simply replied, "Beautiful young woman."  
  
Jack tucked the wallet and photo away and reached out a hand for the sketchbook.  
  
"Actually, do we have a little more time?" Ree asked.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"In case someone happens to notice the sketchpad and wants to know why you have it." Ree opened the pad again, "Just give me 20 minutes." She began a series of quick sketches: flowers, trees, the glade, a squirrel perched on a branch, and - because she couldn't resist - a couple of Jack. When she was done she handed the pad back. "All right, now if Sloane wants to know what we did today, we can show him."  
  
Jack looked through the drawings. "You have quite a talent."  
  
"Good thing, too," Ree grinned. "Wouldn't be much use in my profession otherwise." 


	9. Chapter 9

********************  
  
Ree's nervousness made it hard for her to truly appreciate the meal Sloane's housekeeper had prepared for them. The evening seemed to be going well enough, but the effort of staying on guard against any slips while trying to appear calm was definitely tiring.  
  
"So, I understand you spent the day wandering through the countryside?" Sloane was saying.  
  
"Yes," Ree said, glancing over at Jack. The look in his eyes told her he was remembering their interlude as well.  
  
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Sloane continued, carefully watching the interchange between them.  
  
"Mmm. I was able to do some sketching while we were out."  
  
"Oh? I'd be interested in seeing what you drew."  
  
"Of course," Ree smiled. "I think Jack still has the sketchpad."  
  
Jack slid one hand inside his suit jacket and removed the small pad, then passed it to Arvin.  
  
Sloane examined the sketches carefully. "These are very nicely done," he said admiringly.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"So, Ree, tell me about your job with the CIA," Sloane prompted.  
  
Ree looked politely confused. "Actually, I mostly work with the state and local police. It's only rarely that the CIA calls on me."  
  
"I don't mean your work as a sketch artist. I was referring to your position as a mission specialist."  
  
Ree's mouth dropped. "My. I'm sorry. What do you mean?"  
  
Sloane wore the cold calculating look of a predator closing in for the kill. "An associate of mine here in Paris recognized you. He says he worked with you a number of years ago in the Berlin office. You must be quite a senior agent if you've been there what, almost 20 years now?" He sat back and waited for the reactions to his bombshell.  
  
Ree looked shocked. Jack, furious and betrayed.  
  
"Yes," Jack responded with tightly controlled anger. "Please do tell me about this other profession of yours."  
  
Ree shot a glance at him, surprised by his strong reaction to Sloane's words, then turned back to face Arvin. "I'm not sure where you got your information from," she said steadily, "but I haven't been an agent for the CIA in 12 years. On occasion they call me in to consult, but I quit the agency a long time ago. I haven't gone back and I have no intention of ever doing so."  
  
"Fascinating," Sloane said. "So you're saying that after." He paused for her to finish his sentence.  
  
"Eight years," Ree responded.  
  
"Eight years." He steepled his fingers under his chin. "So, after eight years with the CIA you simply quit? From what I heard you were very good at designing and running missions."  
  
"I was." Once again Ree sensed the undercurrents in the room, but couldn't decipher the look Sloane shot at Jack. "I was very good at my job. Maybe too good. I won't say they were pleased with my decision, but I'd made up my mind. Told them they could make me stay, but they couldn't make me work." She shrugged. "Eventually they saw it my way."  
  
"Please. Tell us about it." Sloane gestured to Jack and himself. "You have our full attention."  
  
This was not something Ree particularly wanted to get into. Even twelve years later it still hurt. "It's a long story," she hedged.  
  
"Many of your stories seem to be," Jack said icily. "Long and with a number of vital parts left out, apparently."  
  
Ree stared at him. What exactly was he implying? Now she was starting to get pissed off. "You want to know?" she demanded. "Fine. On the last mission I designed, two men died. One of them was my fiancé."  
  
Sloane looked a bit smug. "Unfortunate what mistakes in designing a mission can lead to."  
  
Ree turned on him. "I didn't make a mistake! I did everything exactly right. The only way to successfully achieve our objectives required putting two of our operatives in jeopardy. Matt was one of them. I knew that the odds of his surviving were negligible. He didn't. I was ordered not to tell him." She took a deep breath, trying to maintain her shaky control. "And I didn't. I sent him into that situation blind. And I watched him die."  
  
She stood up abruptly. "That's what I couldn't live with. Not that I'd made a mistake. That I didn't. And because I was a good agent and did my job correctly, the man I loved died. I could have warned him, but I followed orders." She looked from one man to the other. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I think I've had enough fun for one evening." She tossed her napkin onto the chair and strode out of the room.  
  
The two men watched her leave, but remained silent.  
  
After a minute, Sloane turned to Jack. "I'm sorry, old friend, but I thought you ought to know."  
  
"Know what?" Jack bit out. "That she's ex-CIA? That she feels responsible for the death of her fiancé?"  
  
"That she works for a government agency whose goals are diametrically opposed to ours. That it's possible she may have attached herself to you to see what information she could get out of you about SD-6. After the fiasco with Laura -"  
  
"Arvin, you are out of line," Jack growled.  
  
"Am I?" Arvin demanded harshly. "Am I really? Jack, you're a brilliant man. The one serious mistake you've made in your life was letting yourself fall in love with a woman whose only interest was in getting enough information out of you to be able to kill your colleagues. I'd hate to see history repeat itself."  
  
"Ree is not Laura!"  
  
"No," Arvin allowed. "But given what's been going on we can't overlook the possibility that she may be with you for the same reason."  
  
"I know what I'm doing, Arvin. And I would appreciate it if -"  
  
"Come on, Jack," Arvin interrupted. "You brought the woman with you to Paris. While you were here on business. You've never done anything like that in all the time I've known you. And I saw enough of the tape from last night to know you weren't playing Scrabble together. Is she really that good in bed?"  
  
Jack's face was flushed with embarrassment and fury. "My private life is exactly that - private."  
  
"Unless it interferes with SD-6 business," Sloane spoke sharply. "Look at yourself, Jack. This isn't like you. If the situation were reversed, you know you'd be saying the same thing to me. Now what the hell is going on here?"  
  
"I admit it may not have been the most prudent thing to do." Jack met Arvin's gaze squarely. "And I agree that this whole. thing. is not like me. Nonetheless, I know what I'm doing and I can assure you that she is not a risk."  
  
"Jack." Arvin leaned in intently. "She's CIA."  
  
"Twelve years ago!" Jack said angrily. "She says she left the CIA twelve years ago. Surely that can be checked out easily enough."  
  
Sloane nodded. "And normally you would be the person I'd ask to do the checking. Under the circumstances, I think you'll understand if I give the job to someone else."  
  
"Of course," Jack said curtly.  
  
"We should be able to get a response by mid-day tomorrow at the latest. Until then I recommend you be very discreet in whatever you say to her. And for your sake, my friend, I hope you're right."  
  
Jack gave a jerk of his head that might be construed as agreement and left the room.  
  
Sloane pursed his lips in thought for a moment, then rose and crossed to the phone on the side table. He waited for the other party to pick up then spoke abruptly into the phone. "Bates. Get me everything you can find on a Rhiannon Ash. Particularly her history with the CIA. This is a top priority assignment."  
  
********************  
  
Ree was staring out the window into the night with her back to the door when Jack entered the darkened room.  
  
"Nice of you to let me learn about your profession from Sloane."  
  
She went dead still for a moment then turned around slowly. She had been crying and tears still ran down her cheeks. "It was twelve years ago!" she spat at him. "Twelve goddamned years ago! What the hell is your problem, anyway? What?! Gee, I forgot to tell you that I worked as a waitress at Friendly's when I was 16. You want to make an issue of that, too?"  
  
"It's an entirely different matter and you know it," Jack said ominously.  
  
"Oh, really? And why would that be?" Her eyes dared him to say something, knowing he couldn't with all of the surveillance. "You have a problem with ex-spooks?"  
  
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a pen. He fiddled with it for a second. "We have two minutes."  
  
"Good. What the hell is this all about?"  
  
"Why didn't you tell me about your status with the CIA?"  
  
"My status with the CIA?" she repeated. "My status with the CIA is non- existent. I've maintained a high security clearance so they can bring me in on classified cases as a sketch artist. In a few extremely rare cases they've asked me in as a consultant. I am no longer an agent with them and I will never again be an agent for them."  
  
"This is still information I should have known."  
  
"Then why the hell didn't you check me out? God knows, you have to have the resources. You could have asked either of the agents there. Hell, you could have asked me! Any of us would have told you. If you were that concerned, why didn't you do your homework? I asked about you!"  
  
Jack was momentarily speechless.  
  
Ree pushed past him and began throwing her things into her bag.  
  
"What are you doing?" he managed.  
  
"Leaving. There's no way in hell I'm spending the night in this room with you. There has to be another bedroom - or at least a couch - somewhere." She stopped and looked at him for a moment. "This is not what I expected from you. In my dreams -"  
  
"I am not the goddamned man you've been dreaming about!"  
  
"Clearly not. He could be a real ass, too, but at least he has a good excuse!"  
  
"And what would that be?"  
  
She paused on her way out the door. "He was betrayed by his wife."  
  
The door slammed behind her, leaving him stunned and speechless yet again.  
  
********************  
  
She ran into Sloane partway down the hall.  
  
"Ree? Where are you going?" he asked with some concern.  
  
The angry tears were still flowing down her cheeks and they glistened in the moonlight shining through the window. She brushed them away and replied with as much dignity as she could manage, "I was going to ask your housekeeper if there was another room I could stay in. I can't stay with him - not when he's acting like this." She stared out the window without blinking, willing the foolish tears to stop. "I don't understand why a job I did twelve years ago would bother him."  
  
She decided to be daring and drop the ball into Sloane's court. "You knew it would bother him when you told him, didn't you? I could tell by the way you watched him. Why? Why does it bother him?"  
  
Sloane pursed his lips and took a moment to decide how to answer. "Well," he said finally, "I can't say much for confidentiality reasons, but I can tell you that someone Jack trusted implicitly turned out to have been an operative using him to get information. They suspected an international money-laundering operation was being organized through the consortium of banks Credit Dauphine is affiliated with. Jack was, of course, cleared of any involvement, but I'm afraid it's soured his opinion of anyone involved with the CIA."  
  
Ree looked at him measuringly, wondering how much of what he had said was true - and which parts of it. "I didn't know," she said quietly. "Thank you."  
  
"Think nothing of it," Sloane replied. "And if you'd like, I'll ask Eva to make up another room for you. I was just concerned that you might be trying to leave. I would have hated for something to happen to you if you'd tried to make your way back to the city alone at night."  
  
Although his face showed a gentle concern, Ree had the feeling that there was a warning note behind his words. "No, nothing like that." She turned back to the window with a sigh. "Where would I go? Jack has our plane tickets."  
  
She barely managed to hide a shudder as he stepped in closer and patted her on the shoulder.  
  
"Don't worry. I've known Jack for a long time. I'm sure this will blow over. I'll have Eva prepare another room. She'll come get you when it's ready. In the meantime, make yourself comfortable in the library down the hall."  
  
"Thank you," Ree managed.  
  
"Not a problem."  
  
Ree waited until his footsteps had disappeared around the corner before she turned around. She didn't know what kind of game Sloane was playing, but she didn't trust him as far as she could throw him. With another sigh she made her way to the library to wait for the housekeeper. 


	10. Chapter 10

********************  
  
He stood in the doorway, watching her for a minute before he went in. She was sitting in the dark, staring into space. The moonlight from the window cast enough light for him to see her silhouette.  
  
"Ree?"  
  
She turned her head slightly in his direction, but didn't look at him.  
  
"Will you come back to the room?" He didn't like the idea of her being alone in the house, where he couldn't watch out for her.  
  
At least that was the excuse he was allowing himself. He chose not to think that maybe he just wanted to be close to her.  
  
"Give me one good reason."  
  
It took him another minute to make himself say it, even though he'd known he would have to from the second she'd walked out of the room. Still, the words didn't come easily - for more reasons than he cared to think about.  
  
"I was betrayed by my wife," he said finally.  
  
She looked fully at him then, eyes wide with shock. "Sloane said you'd been - " She cut herself off. "Jack, do you realize -"  
  
"Yes. But it's not something I want to think about tonight." He stood, stiffly, just inside the door, feeling as unsure and vulnerable as he did around his daughter. "Ree. Will you please come back to the room with me? I won't touch you, but I'll be more . comfortable if you're with me - if I know you're all right." 'Safe' was what he was thinking.  
  
She watched him for a moment - beginning to understand a little of what drove this man and finding herself blindly hating the woman who had hurt him so deeply - then realized he was still waiting for an answer.  
  
"Come sit with me for a while." She moved over to make space for him on the couch.  
  
He hesitated, but came over and sat down uncomfortably. "I'm. sorry," he said when it became clear that she wasn't going to speak. "Sorry about before and about your fiancé."  
  
"I know."  
  
More silence.  
  
"It must have been a difficult time for you."  
  
She sighed and looked over at him with a sad smile. "Yes, it was. And made worse by the fact that it was my fault."  
  
"It sounds like you did what you had to do."  
  
"I don't know, Jack. That's what I tried to tell myself at the time, but." She shook her head at the memories. "All I know for sure is that he's dead and I might have been able to do something about it. You know, it's really easy to make the hard decisions in training. You do what's going to work best and, while you might regret the cost, it's all for the greater good. In real life, when it's people you've come to care about and you know that your choices can mean the difference between life and death for them."  
  
She met his eyes and the pain he saw there touched him, made him want to hold her and make it all go away.  
  
"I lost it, Jack. Whatever 'it' is, I lost it. I couldn't do the job anymore, not any part of it. They tried telling me I just needed time, that it would come back to me, but I knew it was gone forever. Just like Matt was gone forever." The tears were back, but she didn't even seem to notice. "He left me everything, you know - savings, stock, life insurance. I don't ever have to work again as long as I'm careful. But the important things - the man I loved, my job, my nerve. All gone."  
  
He couldn't bear to watch her anguish anymore. He pulled her to him, cradling her head against his chest. He was afraid she'd resist, but she melted into him as if she was coming home.  
  
"You must have loved him very much."  
  
"I did," she said simply through her tears.  
  
He held her without speaking for a long time, stroking her hair. It had been a long time since anyone had allowed him to comfort them. And since he'd allowed himself to attempt it.  
  
Then before he quite knew what he was doing, he found himself speaking. "I loved Laura, too. I wish to God I could say I didn't. Hadn't. But I did. And when I found out what she'd done. My whole life came apart. It felt like everything I had was founded on a lie and when that was exposed. There was nothing left."  
  
"I'm so sorry." She held him even more tightly and for a long time they let themselves take comfort from one another.  
  
Finally Ree moved herself away from him slightly. "All right."  
  
His eyes questioned her.  
  
"I'll go back to the room with you." She reached up and kissed him softly on the lips. "But I won't hold you to the no touching part."  
  
********************  
  
In the morning they began collecting and repacking their belongings. Ree stopped suddenly and put a hand to her ears. "My grandmother's earrings."  
  
Jack looked at her questioningly.  
  
"Her earrings. I was wearing them yesterday when. I must have left them there!" She tossed the last of her things into her bag and zipped it up. "I need to go get them."  
  
"Ree," Jack began.  
  
"It'll take what? Thirty, thirty-five minutes if I hurry? You'll barely know I've gone. Jack, I can see where I left them."  
  
"I'll go with you."  
  
"I'll be fine. I'm just going -" The look on his face told her it was pointless to argue. "All right then, but we've got to go now. Our ride will be here in about 50 minutes and, no offense, but I really don't want to stay here any longer than we have to."  
  
His phone rang and he glanced down at the display. "I have to take this."  
  
"Jack."  
  
"All right," he said finally. "Go ahead and I'll catch up with you as soon as I've finished this. But be careful."  
  
"I know, I know." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and hurried off.  
  
About 10 minutes later Jack left the room and nearly bumped into Sloane coming down the hall.  
  
"Arvin?"  
  
"Jack. I was coming to get you. I'm sorry to be right about this, but Ree's gone. She took off in a hurry, carrying only her purse. I've got a man following her who'll take care of her when she's gotten a little distance from the estate. Unless, of course, you want her brought back so you can question her?"  
  
"What?" It took Jack a minute to process what he'd just heard. "Arvin, no! She went to get her grandmother's earrings. Her earrings! She left them there yesterday when we - You need to call your man off! She's not leaving!"  
  
Arvin shook his head. "Jack, Jack. You're letting your emotions cloud your judgement."  
  
Jack grabbed the smaller man by the shoulders and shoved him up against the wall. "Call your man off now! I swear to you, Arvin, if anything happens to her -"  
  
"Mr. Sloane?" A nervous looking young man stood in the doorway of the room. "There's a fax for you."  
  
Jack let go of Sloane and stood back while Sloane deliberately straightened his suit jacket before heading over to take the papers.  
  
"Thank you." Sloane scanned the pages quickly then looked up at Jack. "Look's like you were right after all," he admitted grudgingly. He turned to the man still waiting in the doorway. "Contact Sullivan immediately. Tell him Ms. Ash is not to be harmed. He is just to observe from a distance. Repeat, she is not to be harmed."  
  
Jack was already out the door at a run. 


	11. Chapter 11

********************  
  
It was a beautiful morning. Ree was just wishing she had the time to stop and enjoy it, maybe make a few sketches, when the bullet entered her back and tore through her lower abdomen. The force of it spun her around and knocked her to the ground.  
  
At first she didn't know what had happened to her as she lay sprawled there, looking down at the ragged hole and the dark red blood seeping out onto her hands and beginning to soak her clothes. Her brain tried to process what was going on without much success. And then a shadow fell across her face and she looked up to see someone she'd never thought she would see again.  
  
"Got your attention, huh?" Sullivan said. "Surprised to see me?"  
  
Ree couldn't believe her eyes. "Tom? Is that really you?"  
  
"In the flesh."  
  
"But you -"  
  
"Died twelve years ago? Not quite. You only managed to kill one of us off that day."  
  
She tried to get up, but the shock of the pain had her vision graying at the edges and she sank down again. "You shot me," she said stupidly.  
  
"Yeah, and I'm gonna do a lot more than that before I'm through. Sloane told me to dispose of you, but I figure there's no reason I can't have a little fun before I finish you off."  
  
She could feel herself starting to fade and scrabbled helplessly at the hole in her side, hands slippery with blood.  
  
So much blood.  
  
All over her hands. Dripping onto the grass beneath her.  
  
She forced her attention back to Tom, trying desperately to make her brain work, to figure out some way to get out of this.  
  
".couldn't believe it when I saw that you were the one with Bristow," he was saying. "I told Sloane about you and I figured maybe this was finally my chance to get even with you."  
  
"Even with me?"  
  
"Yeah, you blew a damn good cover. We never figured you'd let your fiancé walk into that mission without warning him, but you did. Bitch. Luckily, I had some information SD-6 really needed so they managed to get me out. I probably could've gotten Matt out, too, but he was too much of a goddamned patriot. So I left him there, but I made damn sure he died knowing you'd set the whole thing up."  
  
Ree could barely take in what he was saying. "I don't understand."  
  
"You don't have to understand. But I figure that if you've managed to get the Ice-man jonesing after you, maybe I oughta get me a little of that while I've got the chance." He paused, then made a face and pulled his earpiece out. "They've been trying to tell me Sloane's changed his mind about you, but I figure, what the fuck, I've been waiting a long time for a chance like this. So I guess it's just too bad I didn't happen to get any of those messages, huh? Must be some transmission problem or something, right?" He grinned and casually stuffed the earpiece in his pocket.  
  
Ree tried again to stand up, but slipped in her own blood and fell back again. Everything was starting to seem very distant and far away. A voice inside her head said, "Stand the hell up or he's going to kill you."  
  
"I can't," she told the voice.  
  
"Push your fist into the hole and stand the hell up!" it said again.  
  
Whimpering, she did as she was told. The excruciating pain made her nauseous and she gagged, but there was nothing in her stomach to come up. Somehow she managed to get her feet under her and stood up shakily.  
  
Tom laughed delightedly. "Still got some fight in you, huh? Even better! But there's no point in getting up, 'cause I'm just gonna put you flat on your back anyway." He moved in close to her, holding his gun loosely in his right hand.  
  
She reached out and grabbed onto his shirt with her left hand. He brought up his gun to knock her away with another smirk on his face and was completely surprised to have her grab onto the gun with both hands and hold on for dear life.  
  
She struggled to get control of the gun, knowing she didn't have a chance. Her hands, slick with blood, slid over the stock trying to find purchase. Her legs threatened to give way and her vision was greying out on her.  
  
"Fucking bitch," Tom growled. "Guess it all ends now after all."  
  
Jack came into sight of the life and death struggle just as the gun went off. His whole body jerked as if the bullet had gone through him instead of Ree. Then he was moving again - feeling as if everything was happening in slow motion. He saw the blood spurt from her shoulder and watched as she sank to the ground with Tom standing over her yelling obscenities.  
  
Tom was so caught up that he never saw his death coming for him. Jack snapped his neck from behind before Tom even registered his presence. The crack startled Ree and she stared up into Jack's face, seeing the unleashed fury there as well as a coldness that was terrifying. He met her eyes and the fear he saw there made him feel physically ill.  
  
He tossed Tom's lifeless body to the side as if it was a ragdoll, then dropped to his knees next to Ree. He was horrified at the amount of blood she'd lost. How she had managed to stay conscious, much less struggle with a man for a gun, was beyond him. "It's all right, Ree. He's dead. I've got you now."  
  
"Jack?" Ree's eyes fluttered and she fought to focus on him.  
  
"Shh. Lie still." He looked toward the path knowing one or more of Sloane's men had to be right behind him. One of them came hurrying into sight just then.  
  
"You!" Jack yelled. "Go back and tell them we need an ambulance immediately. She's lost a lot of blood."  
  
The man started off, but Jack called him back. "Wait. Take off your shirt and give it to me."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Take off your goddamned shirt and give it to me now!" Jack commanded.  
  
The man stripped off his T-shirt and ventured close enough to hand it to Jack.  
  
"Now run! She needs medical attention immediately." When the man hesitated again, Jack lost all patience. "What the hell are you waiting for? Go! Now!" he roared.  
  
The man took off through the trees at a sprint, not waiting to see what Jack might do next.  
  
Jack turned back to Ree and bunched the shirt up to try and staunch the bleeding from her abdomen. The shoulder wound was less of a concern. The bullet had gone through cleanly and the blood loss was minimal.  
  
"Jack," Ree tried again. "I have to tell you -"  
  
He leaned in closer to hear what she was saying.  
  
"I know him. He's the other man who supposedly died on my last mission. He's the one who told Sloane about me."  
  
Jack closed his eyes for a moment. How many more things could go wrong?  
  
Ree stopped to gather her strength enough to continue. "He said he'd been working for a group called SD-6. He said -"  
  
He covered her mouth gently with his hand to stop her. "Don't." The fear in the pit of his stomach intensified. "Don't say anything else."  
  
Her confusion showed in her eyes, but she didn't attempt to speak.  
  
"Listen carefully," he said, trying to remain calm - mind racing to make sure he covered all contingencies. "You didn't see the man's face clearly. Ree, listen to me," he said as she started to protest. "It's the only explanation I can think of right now. You didn't see his face clearly; the sun was behind him. You have no idea who he was and he didn't say anything to you. Nothing, Ree, do you understand? It's vital that you stick to that."  
  
The desperation on his face scared her and she nodded her understanding.  
  
"Good." He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, stroked her face. "And no matter what they give you as an explanation you accept it, okay? No questions."  
  
She nodded again. She was having a hard time catching her breath.  
  
"All right. I'm going to lift you up now. I know it's going to hurt, but I've got to get you out of here."  
  
She whimpered as he raised her up enough to slip his arm under her. Her skin felt cold to his touch and she was trembling from the pain and shock. Her agony ripped at him and he would have given anything to make it stop.  
  
"God, I'm sorry, hon." He paused to give her a little time to adjust, trying to be as gentle as possible.  
  
She turned her head into his chest as if she could burrow into his warmth. She needed to feel him, needed to get as close to him as she could. "I'm not going to make it, am I?" She couldn't believe she'd found all of this, found a way behind the defenses of this walled-off man, only to lose everything now.  
  
He was glad she couldn't see his face because he was sure she'd be able to see the fear and despair on it. "You're going to be fine." He forced his voice to remain calm and matter-of-fact despite his misgivings.  
  
"Don't lie to me, Jack."  
  
He looked down at her with his heart in his eyes. "I don't know, Ree. But I'm going to do everything in my power."  
  
"I know."  
  
She managed a smile for him and he felt his heart break. He bent his head to kiss her cheek, cold as ivory against his lips. "I'm going to stand up now."  
  
The pain of the jostling and motion was too much for her and she passed out, lying limp in his arms. He held her tightly to him and started back down the path as quickly as he dared.  
  
********************  
  
He was met along the way by Sloane and another man.  
  
"Jack! How is she? Let me give you a hand." Sloane tried to assist him, but Jack shifted smoothly out of the way.  
  
"I've got her. You leave her the hell alone." Ree was still unconscious and Jack's hands and shirt were stained with her blood. "The bleeding's mostly stopped, but she's in bad shape."  
  
"An ambulance is on the way. They'll be here any minute."  
  
Jack nodded and continued on toward the house.  
  
"Sullivan?" Sloane asked.  
  
"Dead."  
  
Sloane grimaced and shook his head. "I don't know what happened, Jack. He was ordered to stand down."  
  
Jack shot him a look that would have killed a lesser man. "Clearly he didn't."  
  
"No. I'm sorry, Jack. We'll have her at the SD-4 hospital in no time."  
  
Jack didn't respond. His long-buried emotions were too close to the surface for him to trust his voice.  
  
He turned Ree over to the medical personnel when they arrived, but refused to leave her side. When they began to protest his riding along in the ambulance, Sloane stepped in quickly.  
  
"Let him go. I'll take full responsibility." He hadn't seen Jack this unstable since the night of Laura's death and the revelation of her betrayal. It was plain to him that the relationship between these two was far deeper than he could have imagined. He didn't want to think about what Jack might do if this woman died.  
  
"Jack, I'll make sure you have complete access to her. She's going to be fine."  
  
Jack barely acknowledged Sloane's presence. All of his attention was focused on Ree. "Don't die," he said quietly to her, praying that she could feel his hand holding hers. "Please. You can't die." 


	12. Chapter 12

******************** Jack stood outside the door of the operating room. All he could do now was wait. Ree had regained consciousness briefly in the ambulance. Long enough to know he was with her. He refused to let himself think that those few moments of pain might be the last he'd ever have with her.  
  
In fact, he'd spent most of his time here not letting himself think. Or pace. It was all he could do to keep everything bottled up as it was. He was afraid of what might happen if he let go in even the smallest of ways.  
  
When they'd arrived at the hospital, Ree had been rushed into surgery with only the most cursory of stops in the emergency department. Jack had been directed to the waiting room, but knew he wouldn't be able to sit in there hoping someone would decide to come in and tell him how Ree was doing. Instead he'd followed them right to the doors and so far no one had dared ask him to leave. He could see a small part of the room from his position and while no one had appeared to give him any positive news, at least everyone seemed calm - no hurried rushing around, no alarms going off.  
  
One needed to be grateful for small mercies.  
  
He didn't know how long he'd been there before the surgeon came out.  
  
"Monsieur Bristow?"  
  
Jack nodded, knowing that if he spoke he'd ask the guy who the hell else he thought Jack might be.  
  
"Mlle. Ash came through the surgery better than expected. There was a large amount of internal damage from the bullet to the abdomen, but we were able to repair it. She will have quite a scar there, if -"  
  
"I don't give a damn about any scar," Jack bit out, "I just want to know if she's going to be all right."  
  
"It's too early to say, Monsieur Bristow." The doctor pulled off his surgical cap and ran a hand through his hair. "She lost a great deal of blood and is still in critical condition. The next 24 hours will tell us a lot. Right now it is just a waiting game."  
  
"When can I see her?"  
  
"They'll be taking her to recovery in a few minutes. Normally we'd want you to wait till she'd been moved to a room before you saw her, but I understand the rules are to be bent a little for you."  
  
"Then I'll be allowed to stay with her."  
  
"Yes. You have friends in very high places, Monsieur Bristow."  
  
********************  
  
He sat silently in the chair beside her bed. He'd been sitting there long enough to watch three shifts come and go. Sloane had come in briefly, but hadn't spoken, and after several minutes he'd left as quietly as he'd arrived.  
  
Ree was in some kind of a coma, they'd told him. There was every hope that she'd come out of it, but until she woke up there was no way to know if there'd been any brain damage. She'd lost over a third of her blood volume and there was no way to tell yet if that had resulted in oxygen deprivation to her brain.  
  
The good news was that all of her vital signs had stabilized.  
  
The bad news was that she wouldn't wake up.  
  
Despite his best efforts, he couldn't keep himself from reliving every moment they'd spent together. It was almost inconceivable that he had known her for less than a week. Impossible that he could have let her close enough that the thought of her dying scared him to the depths of his soul.  
  
They told him he should talk to her, said studies showed people in comas were often aware to some extent of what was going on around them.  
  
He couldn't make himself do it. He'd spent too much time in silent aloneness to be able to do that easily or without feeling like a complete fool. Even so, he might have found a way if they hadn't been in an SD-4 run hospital where everything was monitored.  
  
Instead he held her hand and thought about all the things he wanted to say - all the things he should have said. He hoped that if there was any real truth to this dream thing of hers that it would let her know he was here with her.  
  
********************  
  
It was well into the fourth shift when the door to Ree's room opened unexpectedly. Jack looked up and was stunned to see Sydney standing there uncertainly.  
  
"Dad?"  
  
He was up out of the chair and had crossed the room to her almost before the word was out of her mouth. "Sydney? What are you doing here? Is something wrong?"  
  
"Isn't that supposed to be my line?" She slanted a glance over at the still figure in the bed. "What's going on? Who is she?"  
  
"Who she is, is irrelevant. What are you doing here?"  
  
Sydney searched her father's face for any clue about what was happening with no success. "Sloane sent for me, Dad. He said the 'woman you were involved with' had been seriously injured and he thought maybe you could use my support."  
  
"Not necessary," Jack said dismissively. "I'm sorry you had to come all this way, but everything is. just fine here."  
  
"Right." Skepticism and resignation warred in her face with anger beating them both out. "Everything's just fine. You bring some woman to Paris with you for the weekend - someone I know nothing about. She's shot and left for dead in some mysterious attack, and Sloane says you've barely moved from her side in the past two days! Sure. Everything's great." She angrily pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, maybe that's just not going to be good enough for me this time. Do you have any idea of what was going through my head on the flight? And now I want to know, what happened and who the hell is she?"  
  
"Do not presume that you can walk in here and demand answers from me." Jack's face was cold with fury. "Her identity is none of your business, nor do you have any right to question me about what I do or whom I am with. If I had felt the slightest need for your presence I would have called you myself. Clearly I did not."  
  
Sydney jerked back as if she'd been slapped and crossed her arms tightly against the hurt. "You've never felt the need for my presence," she shot back. "I'm surprised you bothered with me at all after my mother died. Certainly nothing I did or didn't do ever mattered to you after that. For a long time I thought maybe you wished I'd died instead of -"  
  
"Don't."  
  
The pain clearly evident in his face threw her off-balance and she couldn't do anything but stare at him open-mouthed.  
  
"Please," he said with an agonized intensity she'd never seen in his face before. "I. It was never my intention to make you feel. I never felt that way, Sydney. Never."  
  
He stood very still, as still as he'd been the day she'd asked him if he'd known they were going to kill Danny.  
  
As still as he'd stood after she'd slapped him.  
  
It was a stillness she was coming to realize he put on when he couldn't - wouldn't - defend himself, no matter how bad he ended up looking in her eyes. When he wouldn't defend himself even though an explanation would redeem him. It had taken her a long time to begin to understand that the reason for his silence wasn't because he didn't care about her or what she thought of him, but because he felt he didn't deserve to have her think well of him.  
  
"I know," she said slowly, "I do know that, Dad. Really."  
  
"Now perhaps." His lips had thinned to almost nothing as he sought to hold back the words and emotions that wanted to spill out. "But I never gave you any reason to think otherwise. I have no excuse for that, Sydney. All I can say is that at the time." He stopped himself, shaking his head at his own words. "No. I have no excuse for what I did, for what I've done. All I can say is that I'm sorry. And that I never. You always mattered to me."  
  
Sydney bit her lower lip. She wanted so badly to reach out to him, but she knew he wouldn't welcome it. "Dad." She put one hand up to her face, pressing it briefly over her mouth in a habitual gesture, then to her chest, "I. I know. And. me too."  
  
Both stood in awkward silence for a moment, then Jack turned back to look at woman lying in the hospital bed. Still no sign of movement other than the slow rise and fall of her chest.  
  
"Her name is Ree." Jack made the words sound like a peace offering.  
  
"Is she going to be okay?"  
  
He shook his head again, "They don't know."  
  
"I'm sorry. I know she ." What words should she use? ".must mean a great deal to you." It sounded lame even to her and Jack made no response - as if he hadn't even heard what she said.  
  
"Do you love her?" she asked in a very small voice.  
  
Jack looked over at her. The lines of his face were harsh and forbidding. For a moment she thought he was simply going to refuse to even acknowledge her words. Then something shifted in his face and he looked away.  
  
"I don't think I even know what love is anymore. At least not in the sense that you mean." His eyes drifted back to Ree. "I've spent the last twenty years shutting myself off - not just from you, from everyone and everything. But she. When I'm with her. I can't keep that distance. And I don't want to. When I'm with her things feel real again. So much of my life has been a lie."  
  
Sydney's eyes filled. His words left an eerie echo behind. He could almost have been voicing the way she'd felt about Danny, the way she sometimes wondered in the dark of night if she was starting to feel about a certain CIA handler.  
  
It sounded like love to her. And left her feeling like a lost little girl, wondering why her father couldn't love her. She brought her hand up again, pressing hard above the upper lip to push the tears back and keep herself under control.  
  
"I can't do this anymore," Jack said, so quietly that Sydney almost missed it. "I can't go through this again."  
  
It hurt to see him like this. For more reasons than one. "Tell you what," she said, forcing a note of brightness into her voice. "Why don't you take a break? Go get yourself something to eat. Or go outside and get a breath of fresh air."  
  
"I told her I wouldn't leave her alone."  
  
"I swear I will not leave her side. I'll sit right here and." And what, Sydney? she asked herself. ".and. talk to her. They say that's good, right? So, I'll talk to her and you. do. whatever, okay?"  
  
"If there's any change -"  
  
"I'll send for you immediately. I swear."  
  
"All right." He crossed to the bed and leaned down to kiss Ree on the forehead, then left without looking back.  
  
Sydney watched him go with a wistful expression on her face. What wouldn't she give to have him show even some of that towards her. With a sigh she turned back to the still figure in the bed.  
  
"Well, Ree." She sat down in the chair beside the bed. "Um. Hi. I'm Sydney." 


	13. Chapter 13

********************  
  
Jack had been back at his post by her bedside for almost two hours when Ree began to find her way back to consciousness. Sydney, coming back into the room with two cups of coffee, was the one to notice it first.  
  
"Dad? I think she just moved."  
  
He pulled himself out of his reverie and turned to see Ree's eyes flutter open. It took her a moment to make her eyes focus.  
  
"Jack?"  
  
Emotions he didn't want to think about, much less analyze, rose up in him and he couldn't speak for a moment. "I'm here," he said finally.  
  
Sydney set the coffees down and came over to the side of the bed. "Hey, you're awake. How do you feel?"  
  
Ree looked from one face to the other. "How long.? What.?"  
  
"You were shot almost three days ago," Jack told her. His face was taut with an unspoken tension.  
  
"I was shot." Her hand moved toward the bandages on her abdomen, but stopped short of touching them. "I remember. I remember that," she said and saw him stiffen almost imperceptibly as the doctor and an armed police officer entered the room.  
  
And then she remembered the rest of it. She met his eyes and could tell that what he saw there reassured him.  
  
"Mlle. Ash, can you tell us what happened to you?" the officer asked.  
  
Ree replied slowly with what she judged to be just the right amount of halting confusion, "I was shot, from behind, I think. I remember lying on the ground, looking up at a male figure, but I couldn't see his face. The sun." She let her voice trail off. "Then he must have shot me again, but."  
  
"Did he say anything to you? Anything at all?" he pressed.  
  
She shook her head slowly. "No. I don't think." Her face twisted as if she was trying to erase a bad memory. "No," she said with more assurance, "no, that's what made it even more frightening. I tried to talk to him, ask him what he wanted, but he didn't say a word."  
  
She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, "Please. I don't want to talk about it anymore."  
  
"Mlle. Ash needs to rest, "the doctor said firmly. "Questions can wait for another time. If you would all wait outside please while I look her over? Yes, Monsieur Bristow, you as well. It will only take a moment and then you may return. In the meantime, Monsieur Sloane asked to be notified as soon as she awoke. Perhaps you could contact him?"  
  
Jack acquiesced with a grudging jerk of his head and they all left the room slowly, each with their own unspoken reasons for their reluctance.  
  
********************  
  
"I'm bringing her back to the States as soon as possible."  
  
Sloane tipped his head at the tone of Jack's voice on the speakerphone. "I would hardly have thought she was in any shape to sit for a flight of that length."  
  
"Alain has arranged the use of his private jet for us."  
  
Sloane's eyebrows rose. "You've spoken to Alain?"  
  
"Apparently he's concerned that the investigation may come under the jurisdiction of some particularly inquisitive officers. He agrees that if she's out of the country it will be easier to have the matter closed."  
  
There was silence on Sloane's end of the phone.  
  
"And Alain owes me a favor."  
  
Sloane sighed. Now that was a story he'd love to hear and knew he probably never would. "All right, Jack. But I'll expect a full accounting when you return."  
  
"Of course."  
  
"I assume you'll be wanting some time off to be with her while she recuperates."  
  
There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. "No," Jack said finally, "I don't think that will be necessary."  
  
And Sloane was left listening to a dial tone.  
  
********************  
  
She'd been home for almost three weeks. Jack had arranged nursing care for her - around the clock at first, then tapering off as she recovered. She'd gotten a clean bill of health over a week ago.  
  
Sydney had called a couple of times to see how she was doing.  
  
Sloane had called once.  
  
Of Jack she had seen and heard nothing.  
  
She'd asked Sydney about him once, but the painful hesitation on the other end of the line had told her all she needed to know. She hadn't asked again.  
  
It was better this way. Think about it rationally; a dangerous man with a dangerous job, just being with him had put her in jeopardy; emotionally closed off and unavailable. Was this really something she needed in her life?  
  
Yes, her foolish heart whispered. Yes. And he's different with me. We have something real.  
  
Luckily she'd taught herself how to ignore those whisperings years ago.  
  
It had been stupid of her to think that anything would come of their interlude in Paris. It shouldn't have happened to begin with. He'd even told her how uncomfortable he'd been with the feelings it had provoked in him, how he preferred to keep himself distant - safe. And then to have to deal with her near death.  
  
How could she ever have thought, even for a moment, that he would be willing to risk that part of himself again?  
  
She would have been more amazed if he hadn't retreated back behind the walls that he'd put up to protect himself so long ago.  
  
And she'd gotten over it. Really she had.  
  
Except.  
  
Except that last night she'd dreamed about him again. Dreamed of them making love together. Dreamed of him looking down at her with the half- smile that was all he ever seemed to allow himself.  
  
For a moment when she woke up she had truly thought he was lying there beside her - that all she had to do was turn towards him and he would take her in his arms.  
  
She'd felt impossibly bereft when she'd opened her eyes to find herself quite alone.  
  
Which was how she came to be sitting at her desk - cup of tea long since gone cold - and sketching for all she was worth.  
  
It wasn't until he cleared his throat that she realized she wasn't alone in the house. Her head shot up and when she saw him standing there, looking at her with those bleak, hopeless eyes, she felt her heart stop.  
  
And then she thought perhaps he was just a figment of her imagination. Some sort of extension of her crazy dreams into her waking life.  
  
"I didn't think I'd ever see you again," she said when, after several moments, he hadn't disappeared into thin air.  
  
"I intended to stay away." Only his eyes betrayed his emotions. "I couldn't any longer."  
  
She watched him without speaking, giving him the time he needed.  
  
"You deserve better," he said at last. "You deserve more than I'll ever be able to give you."  
  
"You let me decide what I do or don't deserve. That's my decision!" she replied with a touch of anger that sent a brief smile ghosting across his face.  
  
"I can't promise you -"  
  
"I didn't ask you for any promises, Jack." She stood up suddenly, no longer able to remain in her chair. "I know all about what you can't do and why. I know it and I understand it. I'm not asking you for any of that. I'm not looking for some fairy tale happily ever after." She took a deep breath. "But I think together we could find some happiness. And peace. I think we could really have something here. All I'm asking for is a chance. For us."  
  
"I. I think I can give you that much," he said quietly.  
  
"I'll take it."  
  
She crossed the room and stood looking up at him solemnly. "I've missed you."  
  
"I've. missed you, too."  
  
She reached a hand out to stroke his cheek then stretched up to touch her lips gently to his.  
  
Neither of them noticed the breeze that scattered the sketches across the room.  
  
********************  
  
~Fin  
  
Meb 7-17-02 


End file.
